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BY 



FRANK HORRIDGE 

AUTHOR OF "LIVES OF GREAT ITALIANS" 



NEW YORK 
E. P. DUTTON 6° CO. 

LONDON 
KEGAN PAUL, TRENCH, TRUBNER 6° CO. 

LTD. 



Copyright, 19 19, 
BY E. P. DUTTON AND COMPANY 



All Rights Reserved,. 



Printed in, the United States of America 

©CLA515705 

MAY 28 1919 



TO 

MY DEAR WIFE 

AS A TOKEN OF GRATITUDE 

AND AFFECTION 

THIS BOOK IS DEDICATED 



PREFACE 

FEW pursuits are more interesting than that of 
delving amongst the mouldering ruins of the 
past, and examining with care and close scru- 
tiny the disappearing data, fading evidence, half- 
obliterated texts and awe-inspiring relics of ever re- 
ceding ages, over which the ocean of oblivion is slow- 
ly, gradually, silently advancing. It is the vocation 
of some and the hobby of others. 

To build up again after the work of rescue, from 
fragments and faint indications, bygone eras of civil- 
isation on which the haze of distance in time has de- 
scended like a great enveloping curtain is for many 
a life's work and a source of infinite enjoyment. 

The archaeologist, the historian, the lexicographer, 
each has his province. The narrator of legendary 
tales follows in their wake as a gleaner in that wide 
field that they have made their own; and it is but 
natural that he should borrow for his purpose a lit- 
tle here and a little there from the treasures they have 
gathered together. 

Their task is to collect, order, coordinate: his to 
spin a web of fancy round some object in their treas- 



viii Preface 

ure-houses and to throw upon it such a variegated 
light as shall cause it to radiate forth in many-col- 
oured scintillations. Their paths lead them amongst 
a multitude of realities embedded in the circumjacent 
obscurity, but which the lamp of research enables 
them to lay bare and define: he in his wanderings 
rambles along byways and mazy lanes, through dark 
woodland glades into the mystery-laden air of cloister 
or castle. There the spirits of the past still lurk and 
it is their whisperings that he has to chronicle. 

It is to the lexicographer that he is most indebted. 
Whoever has turned the pages of that monument of 
literary labour, The New English Dictionary must 
have been struck by the frequent recurrence of the 
tombstone-mark of obsolete expressions, and each vol- 
ume must have appeared to him to be in a very large 
measure a cemetery of words. 

And yet how much lies in this common burial- 
ground of our forefathers' expressions that might with 
infinite advantage be recalled from the past to enrich 
the literary portion of our language and to give pith 
and point in some degree to that which we use in our 
daily life. 

There are apt expressions like "to bite the law by 
the nose"; i. e., to offend the law; "to be a dog at a 
catch," or to be skilful; "to bar one bye and main" 
or to close all issues to one, and many others which 
are full of raciness. There are words like "avow" and 



s 



Preface 



IX 



"reclaim" both substantives, which are much to be 
preferred to the modern words "avowal" and "rec- 
lamation," because they are shorter, clearer, more 
sonorous. And in returning to the idiom of the past 
we should be drawing nearer to that of Shakespeare. 

It is for these reasons and because old words and 
archaic expressions are in their right place in a ballad 
that free use has been made of them in the text — a 
course which had already been followed by Tom Tay- 
lor in his exquisite version of the ballads of Brittany 
and by others. 

It has not been possible to include in this edition 
many literary notes prepared to illustrate the use by 
great writers of the archaic expressions employed, 
which wherever it was possible, has been verified in 
The New English Dictionary. Twelve of the series or 
collection have also been temporarily omitted. Owing 
to the nature of the subject slight errors are likely to 
occur; and for these, if, after repeated revision, there 
are any, I must ask for the leniency of the reader or 
critic. 

F.H. 



CONTENTS 



PAGE 

The Song of Clemence Isaure i 

The Daughter of the Death's-Man 

fytte i 6 

fytte n 7 

fytte m 10 

fytte iv ii 

The Drowning of Ys 15 

dahut's song 16 

THE FISHER'S SONG l8 

IN THE CASTLE 20 

NEMESIS 23 

The Broken Troth 

the wooing 27 

the minstrel's song 20 

the cavalcade 30 

the lover's lament 32 

the lover seeks the witch of the wood .... 35 

THE RIDE 38 

The Dauphin and the Dead Man 

the gravedigger's song 46 

the prince and the gravedigger 48 

the sailor's song so 

the brigand's song 54 

the priest's tale 55 

the princess's lament 57 

the princess and her lady-in-waiting .... 58 

the dauphin's tale 59 

XI 



sii Contents 

PAGE 

Calais 64 

A Fool's Song 67 

An Invitation to Dine with the Cardinal ... 70 

The Clock of Strasbourg Minster 73 

The Baron of Egisheim 

fytte 1 76 

FYTTE II 77 

FYTTE HI 79 

FYTTE TV 79 

FYTTE V 8l 

The Clock of BAle 83 

The Beard of the King of Spain 87 

The Death of Schenk (1589) 90 

Stavoren 

FYTTE I 96 

FYTTE n 98 

FYTTE m 99 

The White Doe 

THE PETITION 102 

THE YOUNG COUNT'S LOVE SONG I04 

THE YOUNG COUNT'S HUNTING SONG I05 

THE OLD NURSE'S LAMENT 107 

THE SHEPHERD'S SONG (i) 108 

THE SHEPHERD'S SONG (n) I09 

THE LAY OF THE WILD HUNTSMAN 110 



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THE SONG OF CLEMENCE ISAURE 

O bring me a rose, my lover true, 
O, bring me a rose with the morning dew, 
And climb to thy place on the terrace wall, 
Where the woodbine nods to the cypress tall, 
And the blooms of wistaria blend for the eye 
The soft grey of the stone and dark blue of the 

sky. 
In this opetide of life to the bird's note lend ear, 
For with carollings sweet in its airy sphere 
The lark above 
Doth whisper love. 

O, come hither, come hither, my Gerard come, 
For the shrubs are a-bloom and the bees they 

hum, 
And the dragon-fly roams with its orb like a gem 
That might sparkle and shine in a diadem. 
And the gentle sough of the wind in the trees 
Like an echo now sounds from the far-off seas 
When a wave doth recede from a boulder-sown 

beach, 

opetide, spring-time. 



2 The Song of Clemence Isaure 

Or like streams as they course through some pebbly 
reach. 

My viol's strung, 
My heart is young. 



Thou shalt list while I sing of the precepts wise 

Of our Court of Love met in grand assize. 

I will trace thee the path that thou should'st 

pursue, 
If 'tis honour and knighthood thou hast in view. 
I will pluck from thy heart all its rank wild weeds, 
In whose stead I will sow but sweet virtue's seeds: 
As of blossoms entwined of each quality, 
Of gentleness, truth, and pure constancy 

I weave a crown 

For thy renown. 



O Gerard, the May of our love is past 

And its fiow'rs have been reft by a rough, rough 

blast; 
For imprisoned and chained here I crouch from the 

ire 
And unsparing rebukes of my stern-visaged sire. 
As the roseate tints of the creeping dawn 
By the darkest of clouds may be overdrawn, 
So our love-begot hopes by a withering bale 
Seem so blasted, alas, that I tremble and quail, 
And black-browed care 
My cell doth share. 



The Song of Clemence Isaure 3 

Though my hand has been sought by a suitor of 

wealth, 
The great lord of broad acres and noble of birth, 
Though his gift be a castle and courtly train — 
Such a lure will be dangled before me in vain. 
'Twas my father who gave me the light of day, 
And what he bestowed he may take away. 
But intact I will keep what is only mine. 
Let in duress and woe my poor body forpine, 

My soul will flee, 

Dear friend, to thee. 

As the cynosure guides the frail tempest-tossed bark, 
So one lingering hope have I still in my cark. 
To the court of King Philip, my Gerard repair, 
In his need of brave men he will speak thee fair. 
In the cause of his lilies one glorious deed 
May obtain thee a knighthood and favour as meed. 
On the day he requites thus the work of thy blade 
Thou perchance will recall a lone desolate maid 

Who reads the stars 

Through prison bars. 

Thou shalt pluck the wild rose from the thicket hard 

by, 

Though its freedom doth cost me a heart-drawn sigh, 
For it wantons its scent on each tremulous gale 
As they silently steal on their way through the vale — 
Thou shalt seek out some spot where the marigolds 

blow, 
For 'tis they are the token and emblem of woe, 

forpine, waste away. cark, anxiety. 



4 The Song of Clemence Isaure 

And of violets coy a sweet bunch thou shalt cull, 
For their perfume is wont my poor spirits to lull. 
So may their charm 
Guard thee from harm. 



Whose steed did I hear at the castle door? 
'Twas my father, my father returned from the war. 
His stern brow had been swathed in a bandage white 
And his ash-coloured cheek filled my heart with af- 
fright. 
His mailed destrier hung his head wearily low, 
With void flanks that the trace of long marches did 

show. 
And o'erspent with fatigue and beclouded with rue 
Were the looks of his travel-stained retinue. 
But where was he 
So dear to me? 

From the lips of my father, alas, I have learnt 
How the English each hamlet and cottage have burnt, 
And how at Toulouse he did strive 'gainst the foe 
On the glacis still dealing forth many a blow, 
Till a steel-crested wave bore him down on the grass, 
Where sore wounded he lay in a terrible pass, 
When a youthful esquire at the cost of his life 
Plunged to rescue him full in the midst of the strife. 

He dared not name 

That youth of fame. 

There's a chapel that stands near a myrtle grove, 
And 'tis thither by tortuous paths I oft rove. 

destrier, medieval war-horse. 



The Song of Glemence Isaure 5 

There the monks of the neighbouring monastery 
Sing Requiem ei aeternam dona, Domine. 
When the evening dusk fades away in the night 
In a window I watch there doth burn a dim light. 
And my heart too doth burn and doth flame in my 

cheek, 
For a voice and a hand all in vain do I seek. 

When shall I sleep 

Some six foot deep? 

This night as I lay on the couch in my room 

The soft rays of the moon chased away all my gloom, 

And in Paradise bright in my dream did I stand 

With three gold'n flowers in my lily-white hand, 

Which as prizes I gave to Love's choristers three 

And one of that trio was dearest to me. 

All is faded, alas, but my fortune I give 

That this scene of my vision on earth may still live. 

Nigh is my end 

And death my friend. 



The Daughter of the Death's-Man 



THE DAUGHTER OF THE DEATH'S-MAN 



Fytte I 

IT was a may of seventeen led forth her geese to 
feed— 
'twas a pretty sight to see that may fare o'er 
the mead. 
And 'twas a youth most scholarly, a sophister was he, 
Who book in hand had wandered forth that morn 

so fresh o' blee. 
'Good-morrow, maiden, prithee tell what hiss thy 

silly flock 
That, necks outstretched and heads bent low, each 

passer-by they mock?' 
'And were I scholared as thou art their thoughts then 

mote I spell, 
Had I, sir clerk, as needs I must a goose's wit as 

well.' 
'Now marry! bonny blouse I wis the crossrow's not 

thy forte 
Yet, though a simple lass thou art, though hast the 
quick retort. 

may, maid. blee, complexion. 

mote, might. spell, relate. 

wis, imagine, suppose. crossrow, alphabet. 



The Daughter of the Death's-Man 7 

Come let us stroll a-down yon lane where canker- 
blooms we'll pluck, 
And tell the daisy's petals o'er for good or evil luck. 
The canker-rose it with thy cheeks in colouring may 

vie, 
But ravished by the wanton wind shall fall too soon 

and die. 
A lock of hair shalt gi'e to me, a lock of the golden 

hue, 
And for that gift I'll gi'e to thee the diamonds of 

the dew.' 
'Grammercy, good sir, a pretty thought and ye would 

ha' good cheap, 
But for the gift ye'd ha' o' me my fortunes they 

would dreep. 
I may not gi'e a tress to you, a tress of the golden 

hue, 

For a spae-wife erst to me foretold that I that boon 

should rue.' 

* * * 

Fytte II 

The Provost's messenger hath come to the court of 

guard where rest 
The guardians of the peace alway to whom he brings 

this hest: 
Ho! captain of the guard, go forth with a serjeant and 

pikemen three, 

good cheap, a bargain. dreep, droop. 

spae-wife, witch. boon, favour. 

court of guard, the guard room or place where the guard 
muster. 



8 The Daughter of the Death's-Man 

And watch that each farer to Paris may go his lane 

unhurt and free. 
Whoso in duels sheddeth blood, the Cardinal oft 

hath said, 
Shall quit as his due to the commonweal the outrage 

with his head. 
Go forth then, captain, in his name, and seize and 

bring in those 
With their copesmates all, who brawlers are, and bite 

the law by the nose. 
And forth they went, the captain and his band, from 

the South gate they went forth, 
And, fetching a compass through layland and tilled, 

their steps they bent to the North. 
The whiles a-down a lane as ye wot all ere the day 

was old 
Where the pretty dog-roses blew a lad and a lass they 

strolled : 
Hand in hand they went till the geese they hissed 

and on them bore amain 
Two dashing young gallants, all frolickful, who sun- 
dered them a-twain. 
'What have we here?' the one he cried, 'a flock of 

geese that lead, 
With learning pacing in their wake all in a scholar's 

weed; 

farer, traveller. 

quit, atone, make payment for. 

copesmates, companions, associates. 

bite by the nose, mock. 

fetch a compass, go round in a circuit. 

layland (or lealand), fallow land laid down to 

grass, not permanent pasture. 
weed, garb. 



The Daughter of the DeauYs-Man 9 

And maugre his mien that's most sedate, you will ob- 
serve I pray, 

He rose up rathe from his bed this morn to greet this 
comely may. 

O ho! the may, for by my fay, she's one whom we 
ken of old; 

It is not the hearts of men she seeks but their heads 
to ha' in hold.' 

The scholar this ill could brook, and the while his 
stand before the maid 

He took, from its sheath right prestly forth his rapier 
he outbrayed. 

'So ho, my bawcock', the gallant cried, 'what wilt 
thou with that tool? 

Come cross it with mine a wee and I'll send thee hop- 
halt back to school!' 

With that to work with their blades they fell and 
scantly did they heed 

How championed by a band of five the law came 
striding o'er the mead. 

'In the king's name hold! Come be dogs at a catch, 
my men, quick haro! they fly; 

Sir scholar, this night in a lonesome tower 'twill be 
thy lot to lie.' 



maugre, despite. rathe, early. 

fay, faith. hold, keeping, custody. 

prestly, promptly, quickly. outbrayed, drew. 

bawcock, fine fellow. hop-halt, limping. 

dogs at a catch, skilful. haro !, hue and cry. 



io The Daughter of the Death's-Man 



Fytte III 

In Paris was erst a tower and its walls were high and 

bare, 
And ill betid the luckless wight who found a lodg- 
ment there; 
For in its court there stood a tree, a tree without a 

root, 
And maugre that it branchless was, it yielded red, 

red fruit. 
And when, unholpen and forlorn, at death's door a 

poor prisoner lay- 
To and fro on guard about that hold four warders 

they paced alway. 
All's well, all's well, all's well three called, but the 

fourth he spake not so, 
Within his earshot it happed there came a footfall 

soft and low. 
'How now, my may, what fare? Poor fare for one 

I wis — sad cheer — 
With golden locks like thine who e'er saw the Angel 

of Death appear.' 
'Naught boots I ween their golden sheen, for the 

world at me doth rail, 
And of those who to me say a word of grace their 

tongue is of little 'vail.' 
With that o'er the footbridge she prestly stepped with 

the key that the door would ope, 

erst, before, ere. betid, past tense of betide. 

unholpen, helpless. hold, prison. 

what fare?, what is the state of things? 
sad cheer, a sad state of mind. 



The Daughter of the Deaths-Man 1 1 

That door through which scant one had passed but 

behind he had left all hope. 
She clomb the stair to a deep dark cell where there 

glimmered a dying ray. 
Had there been more light one mote ha' seen how 

her face was all ashen grey. 
'Rise up, rise up and busk ye, sir! — my mantle ye 

must don. 
For a lock of my hair ye begged erstwhile and all 

ye shall ha' anon.' 
He doffed his coat, he donned her cloak; with her 

kirtle he garbed him eke, 
About his brow they bound her hair till it hung down 

o'er his cheek. 
'Give heed, give heed to what I say, all as is my wont 

ye'll do; 
And ye'll turn the key in your cell-door here, and 

the key in the great door too. 
Fair fall ye, gentle sir! — with a wife and your childer 

I see ye sit 
But back some day to this time and to me your 

thoughts it may be will flit. 
Mayhap ye'll think of the flowers we gathered all* 

in this month of May, 
And eke how for one poor canker-bloom ye nigh 

threw your life away.' 

* * * 

Fytte IV 

'Say, prithee, sir priest, what errand be thine here 
at the Provost's gate, 

busk, prepare oneself, get ready. 
fair fall ye!, good luck attend you! 



12 The Daughter of the Death's-Man 

When the alder-highest are e'en asleep and the hour 

it groweth late?' 
'Now lythe and listen, Gate-ward bold, to the Provost 

I must win, 
Foredoomed there lieth a luckless maid, foredoomed 

for naught of sin.' 
'It irks me much, sir priest, alas an she must meet 

her fate; 
It is a fearful thing alway to break into the sleep 

of the great.' 
And to the tower there came five men all through 

the murk and gloom 
As dreadful a band as eye e'er scanned, these har- 
bingers of doom. 
'Ho! warder, warder, in the name of the King and 

his Provost give heed and obey: 
Your prisoner yield to us that never again may he 

see the day.' 
And o'er the footbridge they have passed and through 

the great oak door, 
The Provost's officer and the death's-man's aids to the 

number of four. 
With a lanthorn dim they won the cell where a strange 

sight then they saw — 
A kneeling may who cowered like a lamb before the 

wolf of the law. 
'Now to your business, ye devil's imps, for the night 

is wearing out. 
Why stand ye there all four agaze? What are ye 

then about? 

alder-highest, the highest of all. 
lythe, hearken, listen. 
won, reached, arrived at. 



The Daughter of the Death's-Man 13 

What have we here? a sely maid, beshrew me as I 

live, 
Of a scant of grace she hath ta'en the place and 'tis 

her life she'll give. 
For the prisoner flown she must atone or quit us of 

that ilk 
Must pay the fee, be it he or she whoso the law 

would bilk. 
And for that she doth love disguise forthy we'll find 

at need 
The wherewithal to deck her out all in a masking 

weed. 
A band across her eyne draw tight, besmear her milk- 
white brow, 
A wooden gag place 'twixt her teeth to plug her 

perjured mow.' 
They heard these sombre words all four, but they 

were dumb for dread; 
And palsied was that fair maid's tongue that mote 

ha' saved her head. 
For no bridegroom had she dared to hope, and when 

the folks they jeered, 
Her seemed that to wed with death might be from 

birth her foredestined weird. 
One heard a tumbril rumble forth or e'er the dawn 

had broke — 
The tree of death it lay therein, and she who feared 

the stroke; 

sely, simple, foolish. scant of grace, ne'er-do-weel. 

quit of, rid. that ilk, the same. 

forthy, therefore. mow, mouth. 
weird, lot, destiny. 



14 The Daughter of the Death's-Man 

And to Montfaucon on they fared where a many 

had come to dree 
And on a gibbet gaunt hung there in that Gethse- 

mane. 
As nigh they drew to the lethal spot on the wing there 

rose anight 
A sable flock that circling round there whilom kept 

its flight. 
Hard by there stood a scaffold low, and there the 

death's-man eke: 
O, could the victim's tongue, made free, the one word 

'father' speak! 
Haste, haste, sir priest, if come ye may to stay this 

horrid act, 
Shall ill foil good in this world awry and the devil 

hath he a pact? 
O woe! O dule! the stroke is struck, a head falls 

to the ground, 
And loosed are now the knots which held erstwhile 

its fair front bound. 
The death's-man raught his hand to snatch the scalp 

by its shorn hair — 
What was there in those watchet eyne to fascinate 

his stare? 
He staggered back; with fire-eyed frenzy mad his 

blade he heft, 
And at one blow, well dealt I trow, the officer's head 

he cleft; 
Then falling fast upon his corse a hail of blows they 

brast 
Till naught was left but shreds and bones for dogs 

to break their fast. 

dree, suffer, endure. dule, melancholy. 

watchet, pale-blue. brast, burst. 



The Drowning of Ys 15 



O 



THE DROWNING OF YS 

SLUMBERING harp of old Bretayne, 
That 'neath the hoar of the past hast lain 
Like a Norse drake sunk in the soundless main, 



Awake and let thy notes upwelling, 

As a distant bell that is faintly knelling, 

In mystic fragments weirdly spelling, 

The tale of Gradlon of Ys relate, 
And of the doomed city's fate, 
That the great sea rose to obliterate; 

For the harper erst told how northwards faring, 
In quest of a field for deeds of daring, 
The king and his feres all dangers sharing, 

Sailed on till a rock-ringed island green, 
Where he won the love of a Norse sea-queen, 
Of whose beauty the like no man had seen; 

And how when he quitted the strand where he sought 

her, 
As their prows ploughed on all through the dark 

water, 
She gifted him with a lovely daughter. 

drake, viking's ship of war. spelling, narrating. 
feres, companions. till, to, as far as. 



1 6 The Drowning of Ys 

And shriller than the wild wind's lay 

Was heard the swart steed Morvark's neigh, 

As the white waves round him 'gan to play. 

But full soon the queen, on her death-bed sleeping, 
Left the lone, lorn king to fair Dahut's keeping, 
Whiles o'er him there came a black grief creeping. 

And for that he mote bear it light, 
By the festive board all richly dight 
With wassail he wore out the night. 

Spake Dahut to the old king wending, 
'Like night and day in morning blending, 
Here earth and sea have both their ending. 

In yonder cove then that hight Ys, 
Where the waves my feet ofttide do kiss, 
Shalt built me a palace for my bliss.' 

DAHUT'S SONG 

Ocean, blue Ocean, roll me aland, 
Roll me ashore on the golden sand 
Where the white steeds revel and play. 
Infant erstwhile cradled I lay, 
Where the white steeds gallop arow. 
Spreading their manes like the drifting snow. 
On our brave war drake smoothly would glide 
Thorough the welter of tempest-tossed tide, 
Riding, O Ocean, on thy broad back, 
Swift as the wind-swept volatile wrack. 

swart, dark, swarthy. dight, prepared. 



The Drowning of Ys 17 

Far away on the mid-main vast, 
There it was my weird was cast, 
'Twas my weird for power and might, 
Ocean to thee my troth to plight. 
And my need or list or will, 
Thou shalt labour to fulfil; 
Thou shalt bring to me each day, 
All that may my bent a-pay. 
Ocean, blue Ocean, roll me aland, 
Roll me ashore on the golden sand. 

When upon thy boundless tide 
Argosies deep-laden ride, 
Neath dark tempest-laden skies 
Let thy serried billows rise, 
Pitching them like baubles where 
Jagged rocks show sharp and bare, 
That mine eyne may daily feast 
On the treasures of the east. 
All they hold shalt wash aland, 
At my feet on the golden sand. 

Swarthy seamen from their crews, 
Men of mould with iron thews, 
Ta'en from death amidst thy waves, 
For — and shepherded like — slaves 
Bought upon the open mart, 
Shall of my meinie form a part, 
Shall in my household daily serve, 
Crooking the knee with shoulders curve. 

weird, lot, destiny. list, wish, desire. 

a-pay, satisfy. of mould, well-embodied. 

meinie, attendants, retinue. 



1 8 The Drowning of Ys 

Ocean, blue Ocean, bring me to land, 
Stalwart youths, aye, a goodly band. 

Fondlings some shall be for me — 
Passed the whim, their lot shall be 
In thy caves for aye to sleep, 
Where thy greenish waters creep 
In a twilight dim alway, 
Silvered by the fish's ray, 
Where their ears may hear no more 
Of thy surge's rote or roar. 
Ocean, blue Ocean, roll me aland, 
Roll me ashore on the golden sand. 

THE FISHER'S SONG 

At the mid o' night, as I lay a-bed, 

Methought I heard a muffled tread, 

And I dupped the door and forth was led. 

On through the murky night we bore, 
And ere long won the spray-swept shore, 
Where boats dim showed, mote be a score. 

Aboard we stept and hoised sail ; 
Around us there were faces pale; 
The wind it freshened to a gale. 

I seized the tiller for to steer 
Across the vasty ocean-mere. 
Those faces they were wan o' leer. 

rote, frequent repetition. 

dup, open. 

hoised, hoisted. 

ocean-mere , expanse of ocean. 

leer, complexion, look. 



The Drowning of Ys 19 

Long while on on we ran adrift, 
With naught of light or little rift 
In that dark curtained pitchy lift. 

Upon my ears then fell a sound 
Of pebbles by the surges ground, 
And far a white streak stretched around. 

The wind had dropt, the loose sail flapped, 
About the prow the wavelets lapped, 
And as I whiled a strange thing happed. 

The farers whom we had inshipped, 
Had into the murk all silent slipped 
Like fallen leaves from branches stripped. 

Our bark, methought, it seemed to ride 
Full lightly on a swelling tide, 
And sadly now the wind it sighed. 

Low, low, its murmur to me said, 

In tones that made me quake for dread, 

'Here is the Island of the Dead.' 

Then rose a whisp'ring far and near, 

And voices I wont erst to hear, 

Called back full many a death-struck fere. 

Some wild as up-torn mandrake's groan, 
Some muttering low with tristful drone, 
While Stevens eke made heavy moan. 

lift, atmosphere. farers, voyagers, travellers. 

tristful, sad. Stevens, voices. 



20 The Drowning of Ys 

And it be sooth mine eyne's attest, 

Oft glimpsed I on some dark wave's crest, 

Enlaced twain figures breast to breast, 

Then by the backwash asunder tossed. 
Their lanes had met, their lanes had crossed ; 
For Love their lives they once had lost. 

And as I listed, as I eared 

Long while that vocal ferment weird, 

A name I caught I oft ha' feared. 

'O Dahut, Dahut,' a voice it cried, 
'By thee, alas, by thee we died, 
For thee about this isle we bide. 

Full many a cheek hath thy bane made wan; 
O Princess who sway'st in the castle yon, 
Of those who thorough death's door ha' gone.' 



IN THE CASTLE 

'Karo, my page, by the hand thou hast kissed, 
Shalt do alway as I have list, 
To-morn, ere the sun is high aboon, 
Shalt rede the folk to be yare at noon, 
For that I may the rose shells gi'e, 
That lay their charm upon the sea.' 
'Liefer had I, Princess, that task were done, 
And the shells all given ere set o' sun. 

attest, evidence. eared, gave ear to. 

to-morn, to-morrow morning, rede, advise, enjoin. 
yare, ready. 



The Drowning of Ys 21 

A shell I bore erst to my ear, 

And was ware of a sound filled me with fear. 

The sea heard I lift its voice aloud, 

As roar it doth 'neath the tempest's cloud; 

And thorough the thorp as I kept my way, 

Oh 'twas evil enow I heard some say.' 

'Now a sely youth, Karo, art thou, 

Perdy, make not so tristful mow! 

An it be boot for thy soft heart, 

To me a spae-wife did impart 

I ne'er should pass thro' death's dark door, 

Till one of thy name had gone afore.' 

'Hark, Princess, hark, the wind doth bear 

A murmuring sound upon the air.' 

'The sound thou hear'st it is the sea. 

Look forth, rede me, what shade its blee.' 

' Tis verdant as the olive-fruit, 

But maugre dark skies its voice is mute.' 

'O my betrothed, green, green per fay, 

'Tis thus he lies by night by day, 

Lies dormant as a snake in coils, 

That shall swallow the fishers with their toils.' 

'Hark, Princess, hark, i' the welkin ahigh, 

Eftsoon a clamour comes stealing nigh.' 

'Enow, enow of thy boding say, 

What the wind brings here 'twill take away. 

To my steward haste bid him prepare, 

Anon the board with lordly fare. 

ware, aware. sely, simple. 

perdy, an oath. mow, face, grimace. 

boot, remedy, cure. spae-wife, witch, fortune-teller. 

blee, complexion. maugre, in spite of. 

per fay, by my faith. eftsoon, again, a second time. 

boding say, evil prediction. 



22 The Drowning of Ys 

With maunds of fruit and the grey wild fowl, 

That carouse we may all cheek by jowl. 

With the brimming bowl let the board be dight, 

And we shall have a gaudy night.' 

The board was set and to the dame 

Karo the page, her fondling, came. 

'All for a feast is dight and yare, 

And thy meinie bring the best of fare. 

Hark, Princess, hark, there's an asper sound — 

It riseth now from the lower ground — 

It swells about the castle walls, 

'Tis a mingle wild of shouts and calls.' 

Then Dahut rose with her cheek aflush: 

'Say whither my varlets do they rush?' 

'They spar the doors, but freck and fast 

Comes a hail of blows that the bolts may brast. 

And, hark, I hear midst their yells of ire, 

A cry, methinks, for fire, for fire, 

For fire that they may bren the hold 

With faggots piled high as trees in the wold.' 

Then, maugre that her lip turned pale, 

From Dahut's breast came nor sob nor wail. 

'Look forth, look forth, Karo, at the sea, 

Rede me, rede me what shade its blee. 

They think with their garboil and flickering flame 

To gallow me forth from hearth and hame. 

gaudy, gay, full of revelry. asper, harsh. 

mingle, mixture, medley. spar, bar. 

freck and fast, vigorously and fast. brast, burst. 

bren, burn. hold, stronghold. 

garboil, tumult. 



The Drowning of Ys 23 

Methinks anon ye all may lie 

Where fire, per fay, ye'll let to cry. 

Karo, come say, what hast thou seen? 

Is the ocean black? Is the ocean green?' 

' 'Tis black, 'tis black but with crested waves, 

Full rudely, I ween, the land it laves.' 

' 'Tis well, Karo, bide here and wait 

Whiles I to my father hie me straight.' 

And fleet to the chamber she hath crept 

Where a-days the old king dozing slept, 

And from his girdle hath ta'en the key 

That oped the flood-gates to the sea. 

'Now speed, my page, take this key, 'twill fine 

This garboil i' the seething brine.' 

'The sea, O Princess, it doth rage, 

Bid, bid farewell to thy whilom page.' 

'Midst storm and bluster the sluice he hath won, 

Farewell, poor page, thy work is done! 

King Gradlon still he lay abed, 

And Dahut in haste to him she sped. 

'Rise up, my sire, rise up and ride; 

Thy castle is beat by the flowing tide. 

Thy castle is laved by the salt, salt sea, 

And oh! but Karo comes not to me.' 

NEMESIS 

'That the ocean boileth and roareth yond, 
Say, Dahut, say to thy father fond, 
For why on us falls this direful sond?' 

let, leave off, cease. ween, fancy, think. 

fine, put an end to. yond, yonder. 

sond, visitation. 



24 The Drowning of Ys 

1 Tis all for long of thy miching folk, 
That the sea in its anger hath awoke. 
Haste, haste, we may not bide its stroke.' 

And, gasted, along the twain they fled 
O'er the bridge — on whither Dahut led, 
Till, mounting his steed, old Gradlon said: 

'Like the wind, O Morvark, oft hast raced, 
Now drink the air, O thou swift-paced ; 
And, Dahut, hold me fast embraced. 

Fast, fast-embraced, my daughter, hold me, 

For ne'er saw I the hungry sea 

Show a front so wild and black o' blee.' 

'Speed, father, speed, win Plogoff's gap. 
Once past the crag that it doth cap, 
We may outride them all ill-hap. 

The wind it leaves my heart achill, 

For in my ears it whistles till 

I hear the spae- wife's bodements shrill.' 

'Trust Morvark, child, for never horse 
Hath held him pace in break-neck course; 
Now shall he show his mettle's force.' 

'Spur, father, spur; on the surge's rush, 
See, now with my knees they are aflush, — 
Oh that the cries of the storm would hush! 

for long of, on account of. miching, sneaking. 

gasted, terrified. 

drink the air, fly, race or run very rapidly. 

win, reach. 

held him pace, kept pace with him. 



The Drowning of Ys 25 

For I catch in the hurly one like a groan; 

Ah me, ah me, it is not lone, 

For lithe there comes now moan on moan. 

False-hearted one, what have I done 

That me wouldst tear from the light o' the sun, 

Who have given thee youths ever one by one? 

Speed, father, speed, for naught can quell 
The flood that with its rising swell 
My girdle-stead doth now o'erwell.' 

'Fear not, my child, a watery grave, 
An Morvark's crest the surges lave, 
His lane he'll find athwart the wave.' 

They win now Plogoff 's dark abyss, 

Where breakers round jagged rocks e'er hiss, 

The dread of the fishers erst of Ys. 

There many a corse was seen to drift 

By the gleam of the fire-naught's sudden rift, 

Whiles Dahut in terror her voice did lift. 

'O bear me, father, bear me away; 

The ocean roars, I hear it say 

"Man-queller, man-queller, thou art my prey'V 

Nor needed then Morvark or spur or goad; 

He hath swum the inlet, hath won the high road, 

The road he hath won, but with lighter load. 



lone, solitary, single. lithe, pay attention. 

girdle-stead, waist. Hre-Haught, flash of lightning. 

man-queller, slayer of men. 



26 The Drowning of Ys 

'Say, dweller in wind-swept Bretayne, 

What sight saw ye 'midst the storm and rain?' 

'I saw a wild steed with flowing mane. 

His neigh heard I, 'twas shrill and loud, 

And dimly in a passing cloud 

I saw an old man that lapped a shroud.' 



The Broken Troth 27 



THE BROKEN TROTH 



THE WOOING 



w 



HAT is the mermaid's plaintive lay 
That the winds aland they waft alway 
When the waves break fast on fair Auray? 



They sing a song, an it fall on your ear, 

A song, a song, that is sad to hear, 

Of a may who erst was so blythe o' cheer. 

O, oft a beetling crag she won 
To meet in tryst her loved one, 
What hour went down the westering sun. 

And as it sank in a blood-red blaze 

They hand in hand would sit dreaming and gaze, 

Till the lift with night's veil it 'gan to haze. 

But dwellers in Auray one morn 
Awoke to the clamorous sound of a horn, 
With its long-drawn notes on the air far borne. 

a-land, on land, ashore. may, maid. 

erst, formerly. cheer, mien, countenance. 

beetling, projecting, overhanging. 

won, reached. lift, atmosphere, sky. 



28 The Broken Troth 

And echoes from a grizzled keep 
Awoke as from an age-long sleep, 
And faintly broke the silence deep. 

The gate-ward hath the gates unsparred. 
With steeds forspent and ridden hard 
Troop horsemen into the great courtyard. 

And now adown the castle's stair 
Hath come the Baron Gille de Vayre, 
With head y-bent and silvering hair. 

'Now hail, Le Roux,' the baron says, 
As slowly he the group surveys, 
'Thy face calls back long bygone days.' 

'Hark back, good coz, and rest content, 

That on an errand I am bent, 

Which hath long syne your full consent. 

But of my purpose grant that now 

I make not a complete avow; 

What time I have bethought and how; 

And I had liefer it were sung, 

When we sit by the board our cups among, 

As it beseems, by my minstrel's tongue.' 

'Twas eventide and the guests were gay, 
When, chaunting soft in love-tuned lay, 
The minstrel bespake fair Berthe, the may. 

gate-ward, gate-keeper. 

unsparred, unbarred, unbolted. 

forspent, exhausted. syne, ago. 

avow, avowal. liefer, rather. 



The Broken Troth 29 

THE MINSTREL'S SONG 

'Twas within a garden fair, 
Where the sweetest flowers were — 
All the blooms of fulsome May 
Teeming in her brave array; 
And a damsel there was eke 
With a soft and damask cheek. 

Cupid had some fern-seed ta'en, 
For to thrall her he was fain; 
And, ear-kissing, he did say: 
'Wherefore all this proud display? 
Like these blossoms, gentlest maid, 
Wilt thou beam awhile, then fade? 

Wherefore then so fair o' feir, 
If no lover cometh near? 
Wherefore then so douce a face, 
If no knight it may aggrace? 
Cloistress leads her life for vain 
All the world goes twain and twain. 

Make not dainty to man's suit. 
Love is like a golden fruit — 
Must be gathered in its prime; 
Hence forslow not when 'tis time. 
It is in life's gilded morn 
That the fairest hopes are born. 

fern-seed, to render himself invisible. 

fain, eager. 

ear-kissing, whispering in the ear. 

feir, appearance, look. 

douce, sweet, pleasant, sober. aggrace, to favour. 

cloistress, nun. for vain, in vain. 

make dainty, to be loth, chary. 

forslow, to be slow or dilatory. 






30 The Broken Troth 

Why then maiden, peeping, bide 
At the door of wedding-tide? 
In the handfast thou wilt find 
Sweetest bond that knows mankind; 
Forthy when two hearts agree 
Seal it with a lover's fee.' 

And when in fine his voice was hush, 
Amany sought the mantling flush 
That deepens to a maiden's blush; 
But turning white as a flaxen sheet 
With fireless eye rose Berthe from her seat 
And out at the door she vanished fleet. 



THE CAVALCADE 

'Thy bridegroom waits, my daughter dear; 

And when for thee I shed a tear 

'Twill channels down my old cheek sere.' 

'A sea of tears I eke would shed, 
My father dear, an us 'twould stead, 
But by our weird we maids are led.' 

O gaily fared the bridal train, 

As from the castle it burst amain, 

With jester and minstrel as foremost twain. 

But sadly, sadly one did ride, 

My fay, it was the fair young bride, 

And back she looked — she looked and sighed. 

handfast, marriage contract. forthy, therefore. 

in fine, in conclusion, at last. sere, burn. 

weird, destiny. my fay, faith ! 



The Broken Troth 31 

'Farewell, my Brittany, farewell, 
My bosom heaves like ocean's swell. 
Of my youth and love I hear the knell.' 

Whiles Count Le Roux rode on a space 
Him seemed as he scanned her gleeless face 
It showed for him but scant good grace. 

'O ho! my belle; what all amort 1 
A tearful eye and trist deport 
With our gay rout but ill doth sort. 

Do off then melancholy's veil, 
For sadness paints a visage pale, 
And naught hath it of gain or hayll.' 

'Bear, good my lord, an heart-heavy I, 

The memories of my home besigh, 

As they pangs awake at each broken tie. 

The mariner he loves the sea. 

O, sad is the weird one's heart must dree 

When one leaves for aye one's own countrie.' 

'Enow, enow, thy teen must sleep. 
Thee now, my belle, I have in keep; 
With joy anon thy heart shall leap; 

amort, dejected, spiritless. trist, sad, sorrowful. 

deport, bearing. sort, agree, harmonise. 

hayll, hale, well-being, health, weird, lot. 

dree, suffer, undergo. teen, grief, sorrow. 
keep, charge. 



32 The Broken Troth 

For in the south we buoyance teach, 
And moping all and care-tuned speech 
With heyday joys and pastimes leech.' 

Why doth the fair bride's jennet rear, 
Whiles in her watchet eyne so clear 
And o'er her visage spread sits fear? 

Why halts the rout, and turning white 
Stand a many spell-bound at some sight 
That gars them cross themselves for fright? 

Why pricking then each one his steed 
Break headlong all across the mead, 
As from the deil they fain would speed? 

'Aroint, aroint! thou foul-mouthed hag, 

Thou spirit of the fen or quag, 

Wilt with thy filth my bride then dag?' 

'Care wither the cheeks of your bride abloom, 
And the curse of a wild witch on her womb, 
May it be fertile as the tomb.' 

THE LOVER'S LAMENT 

'O brook that 'gainst thy rocks dost chide, 
An my cark mote fare on thy arrowy tide. 
Far away to be sunk in the ocean wide! 

leech, heal. watchet, pale-blue. 

gar, cause, make. aroint!, begone! avaunt! 

quag, marshy or boggy spot. dag, bedaub, bemire. 

cark, anxiety. mote, might. 



The Broken Troth 33 

An thy waters mote, as the balm that swages, 
Disfever my brain when it madly rages, 
Like prisoners beating the bars of their cages! 

An thy current, like Lethe, mote blot from my mind 

A hand and a face of one erst kind, 

That fickle have proved as the wanton wind! 

Mote quench its thirst in thy flood the spitter, 
Whiles my cup I must drink to the dregs so bitter, 
Till death from my woe shall be my quitter!' 

'So, lass-lorn youth, on this bridge dost sit, 
The whiles thy lady-love doth flit, 
O fie, O fie on the moonish tit! 

All in an arbour a dove was cooing; 
Now, prithee, his mate what is she doing? 
For a falcon, alas, misliked their wooing.' 

'Go, witch of the wood, avaunt! avaunt! 
My heart is not tuned to gibe or taunt. 
Begone, begone to thy woodland haunt.' 

'Nay list, sweet youth, to the air I falter, 
For quicker I weet than missal or psalter 
'Twill touch thy heart-strings, till their tune they 
alter. 

spitter, young deer whose antlers begin to shoot or 
become sharp; a brocket or pricket. 
quitter, deliverer. 

lass-lorn, forsaken by one's lass or sweetheart. 
tit, a woman (contemptuous). 
weet, know. 



34 The Broken Troth 

Say, jumps it not with thy humour well 

That by my curse's magic spell 

She's deemed to be leader of apes in hell? 

Or wouldst that a brood o' the red-beard's raising 
Round the ingle should sit in her false eyne gazing, 
With, poor spirit, thee in the blue flame blazing? 

Some finding frost are all unmanned, 

And stripling wouldst like a John-a-Dreams stand 

With moody brow and palsied hand? 

I' the mid o' night when the moon is waning, 
And our coz the owl in her bower is plaining, 
Weird sisters we fate's links are enchaining. 

So hie to us, lack-beard, an wilt be freed; 
For thy despond we have remede, 
That'll tine the spark for red-hot deed. 

deemed, condemned, doomed. 

leader of apes in hell, old maids and childless women 
were supposed to lead old bachelors in hell. 

ingle, an open fire on a hearth. 

blue flame, a blue flame was supposed to indicate the 
presence of a spirit. 

finding frost, meeting with difficulties, misfortunes, or 
disaster. 

plaining, lamenting. despond, despondency. 

remede, remedy. tine, kindle. 



The Broken Troth 35 

THE LOVER SEEKS THE WITCH OF THE 
WOOD 

The Lover 

'Winds that thro' the wild wood rush 
Hurtle not, lie low and hush. 
Sleep, my fears and fleet alarms. 
Wave not, oaks, your giant arms; 
Stretch not forth your roots like snakes 
Where my lane its crook'd way takes. 
Riotous with mad unrest 
Heart be still within my breast. 
In my ears I hear it thrum 
Like the beating of a drum. 
Thunder-shaken trees ye quake; 
Th' earth methinks itself must ache. 
Fire-naughts flickering in the gloom 
Whence doth peal yon awful boom? 
Corrigans what direful crash 
O'er the heads of beech and ash! 
Mote I win the spae-wife's tryst 
For mine eyne they 'gin to mist.' 

Thunders mutter round and round. 
Earth what forg'st thou underground? 
Hell, where do thy legions lour 
Till the dreaded midnight hour? 
In the blackest of the night 
Shades and ghosts all come to light, 
And to see them weirdly dance 
Armand waketh from his trance. 

fire-flaughts, flashes of lightning. 

corrigans, . sprites (in the lore of Brittany). 

spae-wife, fortune-teller; witch. 



36 The Broken Troth 

The Lover 

'Winged demons round me nutter 
Piercing hoots I hear them utter. 
Satan's imps, what fell delight 
Gars ye fill my soul with fright? 
Imps and jinns and all your kin 
Mote I to my lost one win, 
I could front your terrors grim 
To the soundless pit's dark rim. 
Monarch with the cloven hoof, 
'Gainst thy swart hosts I am proof. 
Hark! I catch an eldritch cry, 
Now afar and now anigh. 
By some gnome am I misled? 
Yon I mark a tree glows red, 
And hard by the bow-backed crone 
O'er her seething cauldron prone. 
Wood-witch, 'tis to thee I wend — 
Broken fortunes canst thou mend? 
Be it so, awork! awork! 
Hail the powers of the murk. 
Haste! awork! and with thy charm 
Potent make my blade and arm.' 

The Witch 

'Redeless youth, wilt aidance gain? 
Naught done here shall be for vain. 
Step within the magic ring 

gars, makes. 

eldritch, weird, ghostly. 

yon, yonder. 

redeless, devoid or destitute of counsel. 

for vain, in vain. 



The Broken Troth 37 

Where the bubbling broth doth sing. 
Fain from me wouldst ha' relief 
From thy gnawing sore fee-grief. 
Lover robbed of his fair mate 
Fills his soul with fineless hate. 
Powers of darkness gather here; 
Satan, lord of hell, draw near; 
In the cauldron throw thy might 
On these herbs at midnight dight — 
Hemlock plucked in marshy fens, 
Hellebore and bane of hens, 
Deadly nightshade with monkshood, 
And to make it strong and good 
Venom drawn from adder's fang 
In the throe of its death-pang. 
Dead as stone who this doth sip — 
Youth, thy poniard in it dip. 
Who therefrom shall get a scratch 
Nevermore shall open latch. 
Ha! ha! ha! deep underground 
Sleep he shall a sleep most sound. 
Be his wound as sweet bee's prick 
No remede shall him e'er quick. 
All his counts are ended slick; 
He no more shall make his nick. 
Ha! ha! ha! he shall lie dead: 
We can cut Lachesis' thread. 

fee-grief, grief that is all one's own. 
fineless, endless, boundless. 
remede, remedy. 
quick, quicken, revive. 
nick, notch for keeping a score. 

Lachesis, the one of the three Fates or Parcae who spun 
the thread of life from the distaff held by Clotho. 



38 The Broken Troth 

Blood shall trickle from his side 
From a wound that shall gape wide. 
At thy feet I see him lie 
Breathless, mute with glazed eye. 
In thy purpose do and dare; 
Hold you there, youth, hold you there. 
And I mark a funeral train; 
Naught is like our compound bane. 
All along of this false maid 
One shall 'neath the sod be laid. 
One shall sleep in cypress shade. 
Stripling, say, art well a-paid? 
Fare thee well upon thy quest; 
Fear not tempest, fear not pest. 
Satan now thou hast as lord; 
He will fend from thee each sword. 
Fire-drakes all vouch this for me, 
Sights like these this youth shall see. 
By the flame that burneth blue 
All my bodements shall come true. 
Fare thee well, youth, fare thee well; 
Loosed are now the powers of hell.' 

THE RIDE 
'Why, O hind, art so pale 
And dost stare down the dale 
In the dusk and the gloaming, 
With thy vacant eyne roaming 
That are full of affright? 
Art thou frayed by a sprite? 

hold you there, remain steadfast in that frame of mind. 

a-paid, satisfied. 

fire-drakes, Will-o'-the-Wisp (ignis fatuus). 

frayed, frightened. 



The Broken Troth 39 

Why with limbs all unable, 
Thy wits grown unstable, 
Dost thou turn now and peer 
As though, faith, thou mote fear 
Some ill-hap?' 

1 'Twas a white horse I saw, 
And it passed like a flaw, 
Like the wind when it bloweth 
And in winter broad soweth 
A thick flurry of snow; 
Swift along it did go — 
Then with dark mane up-curling, 
Like a bandrol unfurling, 
Eke as wild and as fleet 
Came its shadow I weet 

Trip-a-trap.' 

'Why, O dwellers in Norte, 
Do ye flock in a sort 
At the high-cross assembling? 
And ye carlins, all trembling, 
Say what mote ye perceive 
At the fall of the eve, 
Whiles as evil were brewing, _ 
A fierce gust the leaves strewing 
Bids ye seek some near shroud 
There to crouch neath the loud 

Thunderclap?' 

weet. know. , . . 

sort, chance group; number of persons who happen to 
be together. ., 

high-cross, the market place, where there was often a 

cross. . 

shroud, retreat, shelter, especially temporary. 



40 The Broken Troth 

'As we whiled on the place 
Came two riders apace, 
Swift as arrows forth-speeding. 
'Twas a white steed that leading 
Like a nre-flaught for light 
Shone athwart the black night, 
And was gone in a twinkling, 
Whiles we had ne'er an inkling 
What his rider mote bode 
As right through us he rode 

Slick and slap. 

But who there by the rood 
In that moment had stood 
Had seen suddenly veering 
A swart courser high- rearing; 
While its nostrils aglow 
Shot forth flamelets I trow, 
And its rider, low louting 
At the crucifix flouting, 
Struck a full gerbe of sparks 
From the earth, by yon marks, 
With a rap. 

And the ground fairly hissed 
Whiles a sulphurous mist 
Rose his dark form enshrouding; 
And with cloak spread, all clouding, 
Or with winged horse I deem, 
For 'twas thus it did seem, 
Like a reever on foray 

touting, bending. 

gerbe, anything resembling in form a sheaf of wheat; 
a kind of firework. reever, raider, marauder. 



The Broken Troth 41 

Or a lym on the quarry, 
Where the white steed still shone, 
He had sped and was gone 
Trip-a-trap.' 

'Say, O woodman, what mean 
In this forest so green 
All the dried leaves wind-driven 
Round yon oak that is riven 
Through and blasted in twain? 
And this ken I would fain, 
What yon form is there lying 
Like a wight who is dying, 
That lies there like a log 
'Twixt yon youth and the dog 

That doth lap?' 

'Mote I trust my poor een 
For the things I ha' seen! 
Where ye mark now twain horses 
Rode three wights in their courses, 
And one swart was as night ; 
Swift as bird in its flight, 
For yon bay he was riding; 
They were all but colliding, 
When with sinister crack 
All a cloud thick and black 

Did enwrap. 

But, O woe worth the boar! 
For see, see by the gore, 
At yon prostrate form dashing, 
And with tusk his side rashing, 

lym, hound, leash-hound. een, eyes. 

rash, cut, slash, rip up. 



42 The Broken Troth 

How it furiously flew. 

'Tis the Count, Count Le Roux: 

Him no "Hunt's up!" at daybreak 

To the chase e'er may wake; 

For he lies in his gore, 

And, O woe worth the boar! 

O mishap!' 

The Page 

'Majordomo, hark I pray, 
For that this is holy day, 
From the Countess word I bear 
On the green all shall be yare 
For a dance all in a ring 
Where each one may have his fling, 
Lads and lasses shall forsake 
All their tasks and merrymake, 
Merrymake.' 

The Majordomo 

'Maids and lads, your fardels fling, 
Blythly join the festive ring, 
For the dance a hall! a hall! 
Foot it briskly one and all! 
Who his sides doth lard with sloth 
Wins not grace nor comes to troth ; 
Frolic through the livelong morn, 
Far away they wind the horn, 

Wind the horn. 

yare, ready. fardels, burdens. 

a hall! a hall! , free space for the dancers. 
lard, intermingle. 



The Broken Troth 43 

While the rotes and musettes play, 
Gather all and dance the hay; 
Maids who here would find a spouse 
Loiter not nor muse adrowse; 
Angle for the fresh new wight 
Till his love the bait shall bite; 
When ye lead him homeward tame 
Then full-hearted cry ye game, 

Cry ye game. 

To the Countess sing a song — 
Naught that's dree and naught that's long — 
Naught of cark and naught of woe 
'Tis the Count who wills it so. 
Grave all sorrows far away; 
O'er their tombs strew posies gay; 
For by sighing one grows weak, 
And the face doth pale and peak 
Pale and peak. 

Yet stint a-while with song and dance, 
And on yon hillside throw a glance. 
Lo! there a group doth slow advance. 

Is yon the stag on sumpter horse? 
Through brake and fern and prickly gorse, 
Full short hath been his morning's course. 

rotes, a kind of cymbal. 

musettes, a musical instrument. 

the hay, a round country-dance. 

fresh new, quite new. cry game, cry victory. 

dree, sad. grave, bury. 

stint, cease. 



44 The Broken Troth 

No stag on sumpter horse is borne, 
Nor triumph note of bugle-horn 
Awakes the echo of the morn. 

The pack is mute, the yeomen tread 
With downcast looks of awe and dread. 
Woe worth the day! the Count is dead! 

Mark how an ashen hue hath crept 
Where erst the mantling blood oft leapt, 
When anger o'er that visage swept. 

Behold, O Countess, here thy lord, 

The blood-gouts from his side all gored — 

They tell of ruthless horn or sword. 

Say, youth, who dost impassive stand — 

By thee, belike, he was trepanned 

And brought to death by thy fell brand. 

See how his lip is proud and haught, 
Red-handed they the wight have caught, 
'Twas with yon dirk the deed was wrought 

Seize, seize his dagger! it shall tell 
What in the wood erewhile befell 
False factour of this work of hell.' 

The Countess 

'Cease, cease this garboil — 'tis my hest 
The poniard in my hand may best 
To me, to all, the truth attest.' 

haught, haughty. factour, perpetrator. 
garboil, tumult. hest, command. 



The Broken Troth 45 



Majordomo 

'Hark to the Countess, all, give heed. 
That wrench the weapon now hath freed 
Alack! alack! her arm doth bleed. 

It is a scratch and nothing more, 
Upon his blade was naught afore — 
So write no crime upon his score. 

There stands one blood-gout dark and thick: 
'Tis all and from one little prick — 
And yet she turneth pale and sick. 

Lo! mark her eyne range wandering round. 
Alack! she sinks upon the ground, 
She passes now in mortal swound.' 

Beneath the sod one shall be laid, 
And one shall sleep in cypress shade, 
Say, stripling, say, art well a-paid? 

When fell the dagger one did start, 
And raught his hand in rapid dart — 
Then plunged it in his breaking heart. 

Woe worth the day! Woe worth the boar! 
Three corses lie all stained with gore. 
Woe worth the day! Woe worth the boar! 

swound, swoon, fainting fit. a-paid, satisfied. 
raught, stretched forth. 



46 The Dauphin and the Dead Man 



THE DAUPHIN AND THE DEAD MAN 

THE GRAVEDIGGER'S SONG: THE TANNER'S 
DAUGHTER 1 

A TANNER he had a daughter fair: 
He checked her quirks as he curbed his 

mare, 
Till oh, the beauty, she was ware 
Short was the length of her tether. 
Heigh ho! heigh ho! 

Though the north wind bite, 
An thy skin be tough, 
'Twill be enough 
To fend thee quite, 
Heigh ho! 

But when in fine his last he breathed, 
And goodman lay with ivy wreathed, 
To her as dower he had bequeathed 
Naught but a skin like leather. 
Heigh ho! heigh ho! 

Though ill-will bite, 
An thy skin be tough, 
'Twill be enough 
To fend thee quite, 
Heigh ho! 

1 In Bremen and in Malta are places where the skin of 
those who are buried there becomes tanned or turns into 
leather. It is to this fact that one must attribute the 
legend of The Tanner s Daughter. 

quirk, caprice. ware, aware. fend, protect. 



The Dauphin and the Dead Man 47 

It was that maiden's list alway 
To pace an hour with a lover gay, 
Till all the neighbours they 'gan say 
'There they go through the heather!' 
Heigh ho! heigh ho! 
Though envy bite, 
An thy skin be tough, 
'Twill be enough 
To fend thee quite, 
Heigh ho! 

But with her lover she would walk, 
For nothing could that fair maid baulk; 
A fig for their looks! — and all their talk 
Weighed on her like a feather. 
Heigh ho! heigh ho! 

Though malice bite, 
An thy skin be tough, 
'Twill be enough 
To fend thee quite, 
Heigh ho! 

And here my song it fain must halt, 
So count it not to her a fault 
If she within a sombre vault 
Smiles with her lips of leather. 
Heigh ho! heigh ho! 

Fear not men's spite, 
An thy skin be tough, 
'Twill be enough, 
To fend thee quite, 
Heigh ho! 

list, desire. 



48 The Dauphin and the Dead Man 

The Prince and the Gravedigger 

I 
'Hold, sirrah, with thy song, 
Mayhap 'twill prove too long 

A monotony. 
Why delver for the dead 
Dost lay each one abed 

With a lullaby?' 

II 

10 prince, if I mote tell, 
'Tis but a poor man's spell, 

Which is this wise: 
For whiles I fill my ears 
No sprite can wake my fears 

Nor front my eyes.' 

Ill 

'And can, O coistrel say, 
The charm that beats dismay 

In thy lay's force 
The errant spirit daunt, 
To which shouldst gi'e th' avaunt, 

Of yonder corse, 

IV 

That lies encoffined there, 
Where the birds may lay him bare 

And work him ill? 
Why to this luckless wight 
Withholdest thou the rite 

Thy tools fulfil?' 

mote, might. gi'e {give) the avaunt, to dismiss. 



The Dauphin and the Dead Man 49 

V 

'An prince he maketh halt, 
He lies there through default. 

Ere death each cit, 
It is our ancient use, 
Of debts himself must loose, 

And be full quit.' 

VI 

'Go, fellow, this purse take, 
And for sweet mercy's sake 

Wipe from his score 
All that he still doth owe, 
That he may undergo 

No insult more! 

VII 

Alack that one must dree 
Thus in our fair countrie, 

And find great let; 
And, though by death released, 
Must lie like some dead beast, 

And all for debt.' 

VIII 

'Laud, prince for this thy grace, 
That buyeth him a place 

Out of the sun; 
For when our heyday's past, 
'Tis well to rest at last 

Out of the sun.' 

dree, suffer. let, hindrance. 

laud, honour, praise. 

grace, favour bestowed; exercise of kindness. 



50 The Dauphin and the Dead Man 



THE SAILOR'S SONG 

O, heave a-ho! 
Let the fierce wind blow, 
Till with tails aflow 
O'er the ocean-mere 

The white steeds dash, 
And afoam they plash, 
As our prow they lash 
In wild career. 

Twas in Vigo Bay 
That our carack lay, 
And rocked night and day 
So lazily. 

When one forward stept, 
The Dauphin yclept, 
Who aboard had leapt, 
Oh, great was he! 

And at his all-hail 
All with ready vail 
We hoised sail, 

And our anchor weighed. 

And we ploughed the main 
Till the moon did wane 
Once and again, 
For the wind it stayed. 

ocean-mere, the expanse of ocean. 
all-hail, a general greeting. 
vail, acquiescence; submission. 
hoised, hoisted. 



The Dauphin and the Dead Man 51 

But a barque we nighed 
In the morning-tide, 
That low did ride 
In our path ahead. 

When her we did cote 
We saw her flag float, 
That struck a dread note, 
The sign of the dead. 

But our bowmen wight 
Sent of arrows a flight; 
Well aimed, well pight, 
At her crew aft and fore. 

And a craven fear 
In their looks did peer, 
As with ashen leer 
They bent to the oar. 

Though they bade us a base, 
Yet we held them pace 
In a long stern chase 
Till evenfall. 

And or e'er in the mirk 
They had managed to lurk, 
With such as their work 
Had brought them in thrall. 

cote, come up with ; overtake. wight, active, strong. 

pight, pitched. I"', complexion. 

bid a base, challenge. 

held them pace, kept up with them. 

mirk, gloom, darkness. 



52 The Dauphin and the Dead Man 

Whiles alongside we drew, 
Midst that recreant crew, 
Twain dames we saw too 
Of high degree. 

Then we sprang all aboard, 
And the Prince with his sword 
Smote that hell-doomed horde 
So evil o' blee. 

And in fierce melee 
They held us at bay, 
As amidships the fray 
Waxed deadly and dour. 

And the Prince naught would check 
Till he slipped on the deck, 
When he felt on his neck 
The heel of the Moor. 

That dark chief he heft 
His blade that he weft, 
And his skull would ha' cleft, 
When a bell it tolled. 

With an iron clang 
It solemnly rang, 
And the barque with a pang 
Uneasily rolled. 

blee, complexion, look. dour, obstinate, hard. 
heft, raised. weft, waved. 



The Dauphin and the Dead Man 53 

For the land we were nigh, 
And our vessels hard by 
Stood a chapel a-high, 
Where they tolled a knell. 

And in the dim light 
There broke on my sight 
Like a film, a sprite, 
Let loose by a spell. 

And it rose in the spray, 
And straight held its way, 
To that chieftain's dismay, 
To the spot where he stood. 

For fast in its fold, 
In a clasp that struck cold, 
Of him it laid hold 
'Neath its watery hood. 

Like rats then flew 
That leaderless crew, 
And captives two 

Breathed freedom's sweet air. 

And the bell aboon 
Changed its note full soon 
To a bridal tune. 
O, the bonnibel fair! 

fold, embrace. aboon, above. 

bonnibel, handsome girl. 



54 The Dauphin and the Dead Man 

It changed its note, 
That we all mote 
With viol and rote 
Dance the hay on the green. 

O, heave a-ho! 
Let the fierce wind blow, 
Till the waves overflow 
Each brigantine. 



THE BRIGAND'S SONG 

Here 'neath the greenwood tree 
Now list to me, my feres. 
He levies but his fee 
The rover who pickeers. 

He kings all too, I ween, 
For miles on miles around; 
He hath a broad demesne 
That lines can not embound. 

The poor are not his prey, 
'Tis naught they have for fear; 
The rich his voice may fray, 
When they his 'Lay by' hear. 

dance the hay, dance in a ring. 

brigantine, piratical vessel. 

feres, comrades, companions. 

pickeers, robs, pillages. 

kings, rules, governs. ween, fancy. 

demesne, domain. fray, terrify. 



The Dauphin and the Dead Man 55 

So, golden youths, advise, 
Take keep, ye high and great: 
In him ye may agnize 
The instrument of fate. 

And, if his shadow fall 
Upon a scion of France, 
Busk ye in haste his pall, 
With death full soon he'll dance. 

So, duke, rest well a-paid 
With this our solemn pact; 
For on a plot well laid 
Shall follow swift the act. 

THE PRIEST'S TALE 

Prince, to me no thanks thou ow'st. 
Valiance little can I boast, 

But to God be grateful. 
Mortals we oft grope our gait 
Where life's mazes us await, 

And each step is fateful. 

'Twas about the cockshut hour, 
That I sat within my bower, 

Sat and gently slumbered. 
And a vision to me brought, 
Forms and faces fancy-wrought, 

Faces dusk and umbered. 

advise, reflect. take keep, take care. 

agnize, recognise. busk ye, make ready. 

a-paid, satisfied. gait, way, road. 

ornate, daunt, dismay. 

cockshut, twilight; when woodcocks were caught 
in cockshuts or glades in woods. 



56 The Dauphin and the Dead Man 

All to me seemed passing strange, 
As thro' dreamland I did range 

Midst those airy creatures; 
Until one my heeding hent, 
O, he was of sad ostent, 

Dead-pale were his features. 

Back to me brings that count'nance, 
Sailing in a ship to France 

Fraught with his bales compacted; 
My poor sire, full soon to be cast 
On the rocks by the tempest's blast, 

Weft with his fortunes fracted. 

Dearest sprite, it beckoned me 
With a parting look and plea, 

Till I fain must follow. 
'Thwart the treen it found its lane, 
On until our stone-roofed fane, 

Down by the brook in the hollow. 

There heard I a bell that knolled, 
As if it a passing told. 

Rood and wafer bearing, 
Five in holy vestments dight, 
Forth we trudged till lost in night, 

With the sprite fore-faring. 

heeding, attention. hent, seized. 

ostent, appearance. weft, a castaway, waif. 

fracted, broken. parling, speaking. 

treen, trees. until, as far as. 
fore-faring, going before. 



The Dauphin and the Dead Man 57 

I awakened at a note, 
Ringing like a hunter's mote 

From a horn far distant, 
But that visage I had seen, 
It was still before mine een, 

Speaking with mien insistent. 

Out of hand my way I took, 

Down the bent that meets the brook, 

With that dear sprite aye leading, 
Knolled the bell, and five as afore, 
Passed we the chapel's open door, 

Eager but solemnly speeding. 

Thorough the brake our way we kept, 
And as darkness round us crept, 

White-faced the moon was looming; 
At our torches' glare the deer, 
Startled, fled away for fear, 

Fled and were lost in the glooming. 

And as a dingle we betrod 
Started twain figures from the sod, 

Whiles one lay extended. 
But for the light and the sacred host, 
And for the lead of that poor ghost, 

Prince, thy life they had ended. 

THE PRINCESS'S LAMENT 

The Night wears out, 
And far away 
A sky all grey 
Rings us about. 

mote, a note of a horn or bugle. een, eyes. 

bent, slope. 



58 The Dauphin and the Dead Man 

And here no beach 
The flood doth show, 
That lays all low 
With its waters' breach. 

Round on ilk hand, 
Where they devastate, 
Like one sole ait 
This tower doth stand. 

My husband, oh! 
Where canst thou be? 
No barque I see, 
And all 's a-flow. 

And in my heart 
Of hope nigh blank, 
Grief growing rank 
Inflicts its smart. 

THE PRINCESS AND HER LADY-IN-WAITING 

'O, Princess, look! 
What there doth glide 
Where the swelling tide 
Runs like a brook? 

For yon see I 
Twain corses float 
But whence I note. 
This stair they nigh. 

breach, breaking of waters as over a vessel. 
ilk, each. ait, isle. 

note, know not 



The Dauphin and the Dead Man 59 

Ay, Princess, see, 
One is, perfay, 
By his array 
Of the gentilrie. 

But other guess 
Is Yonder Jack, 
Whose brow looks black 
Beyond all cess.' 

The duke.! O fate! 
Another suit 

Thee had brought more boot 
Than all thy hate. 

Joana dear, 
What can portend 
His dismal end 
With this fell fere?' 

THE DAUPHIN'S TALE 

My Inez, my gentle bride, 
'Tis I who at thy side 
Will till the morning-tide 
Rede thee what me befell: 

How in the dawn-tide grey 
The royal hunt broke way, 
With dogs the stag to bay; 
And cantered down the dell. 

perfay, by my faith. array, habiliments. 

gentilrie, gentry. other guess, of another kind. 

Jack, boor. 

beyond all cess, beyond all measure. 

boot, profit, advantage. fere, companion. 



60 The Dauphin and the Dead Man 

My steed was swift and strong, 
And blithe jaunced I along, 
As gay as the birdlets' song 
When all is brag and boon. 

But the lift grew sudden swart 
As by an evil sort: 
The horn had rung the mort, 
'Twas nigh the point of noon. 

And I was far aloof, 
Nor naught to my behoof 
Could see nor friendly roof 
Where I awhile could host. 

And as I passed a hurst 
The storm seemed at its worst; 
Methought a cloud had burst, 
For then it raged most. 

Full soon my way I missed, 
For little there I wist. 
Of wood and wold ilk list 
Was blurred by sheets of rain. 

And thorough the waste so dern, 
I came to a swollen burn — 
Left me no whither to turn 

For it barred me bye and main. 

jaunced, rode hard. brag, lively. 

boon, prosperous, gay. lift, sky. 

aloof, away, distant. host, lodge. 

hurst, wood. wist, knew. 

list, boundary. dern, solitary. 

bye and main, wholly, altogether. 



The Dauphin and the Dead Man 61 

'Twas then I heard arear 
A voice that seemed full near, 
And turning to give ear, 
Or answer the haloo, 

Upon the duke set eyes; 
And 'neath a falser's guise, 
That there he was waywise, 
With him he bade me go. 

We rode a little space, 
When I beheld a face, 
For me had little grace, 
'Twas nigh a hidden cave. 

For that I naught mote rue 
My steed as winged he flew, 
For there saw I the clew, 
The clew of a crooked knave. 

The light it 'gan to fade 
As for yon stream I made, 
O, how I hoped to vade, 
And thus their scheme to dash. 

Methought it was for vain, 
For soon heard I the twain 
Who followed me amain 
Hard in the waters splash. 

falser, deceiver. 

zvaywise, acquainted with the ways or roads of a place. 

mote, might. clew, plot. 

vade, vanish. for vain, in vain. 



(a The Dauphin and the Dead Man 

But 'gainst that torrent's force 
Naught could nor man nor horse, 
As it swept us in its course 
Through brake or over mead. 

I sought some friendly bank 
Where peered the reed tops rank; 
Alack, my grey he sank: 
Farewell, my gallant steed 1 

My end then I did fear 
In that waste of waters drear, 
When a barque came floating near- 
Meseemed that it was void. 

With that I was fain to shift, 
And through the mirky lift 
Seemed aimlessly to drift, 
By that frail vessel buoyed. 

Then, as I sat astern 
And for the day did yearn, 
A form I could discern 

That steered it at the prow. 

And dimly in my mind 
There passed a face outlined, 
Of one to a grave consigned 
With alms I did endow. 

And, though to speech impelled, 
With it I converse held, 
That form in silence dwelled 
As one who mote not speak. 

lift, atmosphere. 



The Dauphin and the Dead Man 63 

And as the night wore on 
It ever grew more wan ; 
And wholly it had gone 

Afore the dawn's first streak. 

I thank thee, gentle sprite, 
That through the mirk mirk night 
Hast steered my vessel light, 
All laded with me and my cark. 

But it was only there, 
At the foot of yonder stair, 
That I at length was ware 
A coffin had been my bark. 

There saw I what had happed, 
For in mist, as a shroud still lapped, 
Lay twain from life now rapt, 
All in their watery grave. 

The duke there I ha' seen 
With his hair all boltered and green, 
And him of the horrid mien — 
The brigand of the cave. 

cark, anxiety. 



64 Gal 



ais 



CALAIS 



A Ballad 

WAIL and weep! Pour out your pity, 
Wail and weep for the fallen city! 
France hath seen the foe at our gate, 
France hath left us in our strait, 
To our fate. 

TLong of his slain key-cold now lying, 
Edward to us his grace denying 
Doomed our citizens all to death, 
Doomed a city's folk at a breath, 
At a breath. 

Spake his barons then assembled 
'Calais hath kneed, at thy frown hath trembled, 
King an thee one mote areed, 
Hate but reaps a worthless meed, 
Poor indeed!' 

Answered the King: 'As approof and token 
That they are now in spirit broken, 
Six shall dree for all the rest, 
Six choice-drawn among the best, 
'Tis my hest. 

'long of, on account of. areed, counsel, advice. 

approof, proof. dree, suffer. 

hest, command, injunction. 



Calais 65 

Barefoot, bareheaded, white sheets wearing, 
Hither shall fare six Calais' keys bearing, 
Round their necks the hempen twist, 
That I may do with them as I list 
As I list!' 

Eustace de Saint Pierre addressing 
Calais' folk, all round him pressing, 
Out of his noble heart thus spake: 
'God on ye all for Christ's dear sake 
Pity take. 

Danger clouds the day and sorrow, 
Who shall brighten now your morrow 
May in the Saviour's grace affy 
Though he Edward's wrath aby, 
Though he die. 

For that from evil I may fend ye, 
I with others some will wend me 
Till the camp of England's King, 
Where his tents all glistening 
Us enring.' 

Thorough a throng of townsfolk weeping 
See the six their way are keeping, 
Girt in sarks for all array; 
At the gate they turn and say 
'For us pray.' 

affy, trust. 

aby, suffer, be exposed to, undergo. 

fend, protect. 

till, as far as, to. 

sarks, shirts. 



66 Calais 

Yonder England's King is seated: 
All expect his justice meted. 
Lo! the six they have appealed; 
But his lips, with anger sealed, 
No sound yield. 

Turning from the six all kneeling, 
With a gust of bitter feeling 
Edward cries: 'Let axe or dirk 
Fine this scene that me doth irk; 
Quick to work!' 

Now for vain is interceding 
Now for vain thy barons' pleading. 
Of the wars that thou dost wage 
Shall one find, King, at no stage 
Bloodless page? 

Angel of mercy here appearing! 
List, O King, to thy queen anearing. 
'Gentle lord, I crossed the sea, 
Though great peril t'was for me: 
This for thee! 

Ne'er of thee have I sought favour: 
As thou lovest Christ thy Saviour 
Grant this boon of thee I crave, 
That my tongue these six may save 
From the grave.' 

'Philippa thy gest doth plainly 
Bind my hands, albeit fainly 
I had known thee otherwhere. 
Take these objects of thy prayer 
In thy care.' 

■fine, put an end to. gest, action, act. fainly, gladly. 



A Fool's Song 67 



A FOOL'S SONG 

THE MADNESS OF CHARLES VI. OF FRANCE 
(Sung by Jacques Plaisantin, 1 the King's Jester) 

SOFT as on down from the goose's breast, 
Uncle, thy wont it was to rest 
Long in the lap of pleasure. 
Honey-tongued courtiers thy cup did fill, 
Brimming it o'er oftwhiles but ill 
Knowing the royal measure. 

Pleasure at court it can be bought, 
Buyers pay twice as eke they ought: 
Uncle thy cup ran over. 
Court-bred asses no hay will eat, 
Round they nose for their journal treat, 
Splitting their sides with fresh clover. 

Feasting well so we drank to boot, 
Feast on feast is followed suit 
All through the Ember Evens. 
Fasting time hath eke its due, 
Tarries not and will not sue 

Casting about for a grievance. 

1 Plaisantin was the name given to one of the three 
actors in the old French farces. We may suppose that 
in course of time it became a family name. 

journal, daily. 

Ember Eve, the eve before certain days of fasting. 



68 A Fool's Song 

Riot at length it did break out, 
Raging enow stout hearts to dought, 
All in the sconce of this good land 
Garred it was by a man in his shirt. 
Coistrel, thy garb should ha' been like dirt, 
Thou who wonnst in the woodland. 

Silent woods all sounds enhance, 
Down on a helm there fell a lance — 
Hollow it sounded hollow. 
Those asleep they woke astart, 
Chance blows a kingdom can dispart, 
Mark now the scene that will follow. 

Out with his sword the King then struck, 
Fleers there were who fled like buck — 
I could have died wi' laughter. 
Fleers there were to the tale of ten, 
Fleers from him all ten the King's men, 
King thou wert conquered after. 

Twain fools are now I weet at court — 
'Twixt the twain we should ha' sport; 
One but he lacks good schooling. 
Brother fool, I can not sleep, 
For thy poor pate I fain must weep, 
There is no joy in fooling. 

dought, make afraid. 

sconce, headpiece, head, brains, wits. 

garred, cause. 

coistrel, mean fellow, churl. 

dispart, break up, disunite. 

tale, number. 

weet, alternative form of wot, know. 



A Fool's Song 69 

'Shepherd, thy flock where mote it be?' 
'Ah, that I its loss must dree, 
Far on the moor they're straying.' 
'Swineherd, thy pigs whence hast thou led?' 
'Forth from the court where they were bred,' 
'Knaves they were always playing.' 

'How is thy master or mistress hight? 
Tell me I pray, and thee I'll requite 
Graciously, gratis': 'Grammercy, 
She whom I serve with her magic wand, 
Lives in a distant castle yond, 
Hight is the lady Circe.' 

mote, might. dree, endure, bear. 

hight, called. gratis, freely. 



70 An Invitation to Dine with the Cardinal 



AN INVITATION TO DINE WITH THE 
CARDINAL 



H 



AIL, farer, hail! This rock may shroud 
Us twain the while yon black-faced 

cloud 
Bursts in vociferations loud! 



My luck, perfay, I well mote curse 
For that my plume will look the worse 
Should now the heavens me asperse.' 

'Now, fellow farer, welcome be; 
Aboon we have a good roof, see! 
This cave may house both you and me. 

And for your feather, well I trow, 
Though light as air yet it may show 
What way the winds of fortune blow. 

All well beseen, in fine array 

Hold gay to court their pleasant way, 

As, good-faced sir, eke you to-day.' 

'And prithee, sir, since you divine 
Men's fortune, say, what may be mine? 
With whom in Paris shall I dine?' 

shroud, shelter. perfay, by my faith. 

mote, might. asperse, bespatter. 

aboon, above. beseen, clothed, clad. 

array, garments, rich apparel. 



An Invitation to Dine with the Cardinal 71 

'The song may answer, if it can; 
Now let me think how it began. 
I mind me thus three verses ran: 

"The King he hath his table dight, 
Feast merrily the live-long night. 
Come, courtiers, come, good appetite! 

The Queen she hath her table laid, 
Come courtiers all, each well a-paid, 
Shall at his side have lovely maid. 

The Cardinal his board hath spread. 
The wine, the wine, it floweth red. 
With a cup of it lose not your head!" 

T faith, it was his Grace's hest 

By messenger to me addrest 

That I should be his whilom guest.' 

'Such fortune is most gratulate, 
Nor, sir, my query improbate, 
Who bears his messages alate?' 

'Faith, let me see, ay, he was tall, 

Beshrew me if I can recall 

His face, his look, eyes, nose and all.' 

'Belike a birth-mark neath one eye 
From which his glance falls oft awry, 
Speech somewhat short and may be dry.' 

dight, prepared, arrayed. a-paid, satisfied. 
hest, injunction. gratulate, pleasing. 

improbate, object to. alate, of late. 



72 An Invitation to Dine with the Cardinal 

'Good deed, you know, I wis his chap, 
And all his features like a map, 
And eke his Eminence mayhap.' 

1 'Tis said by those whose tongues wag free 
That twixt his Eminence and me 
A blood-relationship there pe. 

But sir, i' faith, it were more fit 
You should not grasp their bitter wit, 
Nor guess how nigh the clout they hit. 

The Cardinal his board hath spread, 
The wine like blood it floweth red — 
For a cup of it lose not your head. 

Mark whither turns your gallant steed. 
The act, meseems, it well mote rede. 
Mount, southward ride, and ride with speed.' 

good deed, of a truth, verily. 
chap, cheek, jaw — hence face. 

clout, cloth (a white cloth was used as the centre of 
a target in archery). 
rede, counsel, advise. 



PaUabes of &teace 



THE CLOCK OF STRASBURG MINSTER 

IN Strasburg minster in days of eld 
Stood a clock that all folks in wonderment 
held. 
Not a minute sped on its backward way 
But 'twas chronicled there with each hour and 

day, 
And eke the months brought they sunshine or 

rime 
Were there as leaves in that record of time; 
And the shadowed forms of the moon and sun 
Were there in the gilding metal done; 
And the breaking forth of Phoebus' steeds 
With the advent of Night in her ebon weeds. 
In turn child, youth, man, and crone used tell 
The quarter hours on a silver-tongued bell; 
Then Death with his hammer's brazen clang 
The doomed hours into eternity rang. 
And Mercury with frequent gest 
Stood there to work all at his will and hest. 
Round the earth-ball all and the stars beyond 
Moved free to the waving of his wand. 
And when the bells sweet chorals 'gan ring, 
All folks gathered to see the wonder thing. 

eld, the olden time. 
73 



74 The Clock of Strasburg Minster 

Now he who thus wrought for Strasburg town 

Was Isaac Habricht of good renown; 

No master wright was as skilled as he, 

And he harboured scant fear of rivalry. 

In their praise of a work to which all bowed, 

The Mayor and the aldermen were loud; 

In council they met his skill to acclaim, 

And on each man's lips was the clockmaker's 

name. 
Good hap they observed in gleeful tone, 
'Twas to have such a clock for Strasburg alone. 
For Strasburg alone — but one there opined 
He could fashion another had he a mind. 
Had he a mind! 'twas there the rub — 
Obeyed he the hests of Beelzebub? 
Of Beelzebub whose craft and skill 
Were equal to his love of ill. 
And as they bandied opinions free, 
The fiend with Habricht oft coupled would be. 
Then uprose the Mayor with bearing grave, 
And thus to his fellows his thoughts he gave: 
'Meseems we are at a pretty pass, 
When our hopes are shattered like splintered 

glass. 
We had built on the notion oft expressed 
That our clock of all clocks would be the best. 
And now as I learn the bruit goes round 
That for three such Habricht himself hath bound. 
One such masterpiece is enow to crown 
A long life's work with just renown. 

wright, artisan. bruit, rumour. 









The Clock of Strasburg Minster 75 

But to engine such gyns now two and now three, 

It savours, my friends, of sheer demonry.' 

The heads they nodded and brows grew stern, 

For Habricht it boded an evil turn, 

For to void a soul where deils wont to dwell, 

Men algates borrowed the ways of hell. 

Or e'er he had fared to another land 

On his shoulder was laid a ruthless hand. 

To the council a prisoner then he came 

Where enow erst they could not laud his name. 

And there he learnt the sentence dread 

That his eyes should be plucked forth from his head. 

'O, sirs, an my sight ye will take away, 

Grant this my prayer, a while's delay. 

Ere my days I must pass in the endless mirk, 

There's need of some change to achieve my work. 

Should I leave it thus, I am sore afraid 

Ye full soon would not be so well a-paid. 

Much it mislikes me that for aught 

The sum of my efforts should come to naught.' 

And they let him go with saw and file, 

At the gyns again to labour awhile. 

With persistence grim and a master's power, 

He filed away for many an hour: 

He filed so well that for evermore 

The wheels would not move as they moved afore. 

Of his eyne he was robbed, a fruitless theft — 

The robbers themselves in the lurch were left. 

And the Mayor and the council vainly raged, 

Whiles the clock-work in idleness year long aged. 

engine, put together, fit up. 

gyns, engines, pieces of mechanism. 

algates, always. a-paid, satisfied. 



7 6 



The Baron of Egisheim 



THE BARON OF EGISHEIM 



Fytte I 



WHAT wind, beldame, blew thee here? 
Who dost like a wrinkled leaf appear, 
Or like the arc of the crescent moon. 
Will it blow your ladyship back eftsoon?' 
'Now, keeper of the baron's gate, 
There's wind and to spare in thy addled pate. 
From a sayer of sooth the baron were fain \ 
To hear his weird, be it good hap or bane. 
Now, see, he anears, for his hunting train 
At the bend of the road trots twain and twain: 
Two boars, a wolf and a stag in its prime. 
All hail to thee, Baron of Egisheim ! 
For strong is thy bow, and broad is thy fee, 
And great in its eld and ancientry. 
But, puissant lord, thy power would grow 
Could 'st thou the future aforehand know.' 
'Aroint! false gammer, so swart o' blee 
A jackdaw, my fay, would sing truer than thee.' 
'Who counsel takes with the daws of the air 
With his counsellor mote make a pair.' 



eftsoon, soon again. 
weird, destiny. 
fee, domain, property. 
ancientry, ancientness. 
swart, dark, dusky. 
my fay, faith. 



sayer of sooth, fortune-teller. 
a-nears, nears. 
eld, age, old age. 
aroint, begone ! avaunt ! 
blee, complexion. 
mote, might. 



The Baron of Egisheim 77 

'Begone belive, or maybe thine eyne 
Will be their dish when the corbies dine.' 
'In each man's hand his lot doth lie, 
Who reads it not will redeless die.' 
'Come back, come back, thou malapert quean, 
And cipher my palm for what may be seen.' 
'So welcome, so illcome the truth may be 
Have I thy word that I go scot-free?' 
'Here's a silver groat to quit thy due, 
And naught hast thou to fear or to rue.' 
'Thy line of life is broad, good lord, look, 
Till it bendeth here like a bishop's crook; 
By that crook springs forth a branch hard by, 
Where the line of thy heart athwart doth lie; 
That branch it points this way I deem 
To the mount where Jupiter rules supreme; 
Beshrew me but thy son one day 
Than thee will wield a greater sway, 
The while he sits enthroned aboon 
Thou'lt kiss the dust upon his shoon.' 
The baron upon his table gazed — 
The sibyl had fled ere his eyes he raised. 

Fytte II 

Through the greenwood all in the morning-tide 
The baron and his ranger ride. 
The birds they sing, the scene is fair, 
With the baron in croup why rideth care? 

belive, quickly, without any delay. 

corbies, crows. redeless, without counsel. 

cipher, decipher. illcome, unwelcome. 

quit, satisfy. aboon, above. 

shoon, shoes. table, the palm of the hand. 



78 The Baron of Egisheim 

'Sir Count, my bugle's mote would call 
The hounds about us one and all! ' 
'Wind not, wind not, anon the chase — 
My mood is now for a slower pace. 
My thoughts beat on the many wrongs, 
Of one who long to the past belongs: 
With the holy Louis, oh, ill it did fare 
Through the rebel sons whom his good queen 

bare; 
A sire with fractious sons may rest 
As peacefully as in a viper's nest. 
Who breeds and rears such a mutinous brood 
He'll reap as he soweth, by the rood! 
And faith! this sibyl's augury 
Says I to my heir must crouch aknee!' 
'Sir Count, of all hawks here's the best make- 
hawk: 
She would say she's in yarak could she but talk.' 
'On yon distant crag towards the rising sun 
A pair of eagles have nested and won. 
The rock is their hold, the air their demesne, 
And rival none have they ever seen. 
If their young, say, ranger, say, 
In an upstart mood should dispute their sway, 
With an arrow, now say, my forster true, 
For the peace of their nest aught could 'st thou 

not do? 
An eaglet's heart could 'st thou not bring 
To the cairn of the mountain's ancient king?' 

aknee, kneeling. 

make-hawk, a hawk used to train others. 

in yarak, in good condition. 

won, dwell. hold, stronghold. 



The Baron of Egisheim 79 



Fytte III 

Through the greenwood all in the morning-tide 
The ranger he walks with a lad at his side. 
The birds they sing, the scene is fair, 
Why then with the ranger stalketh care? 
And he mutters, list, as along he strides, 
'On her whose erdritch voice misguides 
A threefold malison rest for aye!' 
So on they fare till the set of day. 
On the morrow the ranger alone returns; 
His cheek is pale but his grey eye burns, 
As he walks to the terrace parapet, 
Where the baron sits with doubts beset. 
And the sun as it sinks afar in the west 
Leaves the land and the count to go to rest. 
But on that sculptured balustrade 
The ranger a gory heart key-cold hath laid. 
'Ne'er ask of me, Count, or how or where 
I took that heart which lieth there; 
Nor seek me with gold e'er to requite, 
But bury the deed in the deep of night.' 
He's gone and enshrouding shades close round 
The count as he sits with his eyes on the ground. 
The spell is now broken and powerless the bane, 
For this makes the witch's bodements vain. 



Fytte IV 

The days they came, the days they went, 
And the baron's head adown was bent, 

eldritch, harsh sounding. key-cold, very cold. 



80 The Baron of Egisheim 

Like his who on his shoulders bears 
A load of sin or a load of cares. 
His hair had whitened that erst was grey. 
The menials watched him with dismay: 
Why then at the hour of crepuscule 
Falls he in a fit of woe and dule? 
'Come hither, groom, bring water, bring 
As clear as flows from our garden spring, 
And pour it there where the stone is red; 
My hand erstwhile it must have bled. 
And now to the chaplain with this prayer 
That he to my chamber mount the stair.' 
'Sir Count, godden, the air is chill, 
Thou sent'st for me, thou art not ill?' 
'Hark priest, our Rhine rolls its mighty course 
Till it comes to the sea and is lost perforce. 
And eke my line will be in like case, 
When I sit no more in the ingle-place. 
This thought it is that makes me sad, 
And the thought of one who died as a lad. 
And when my soul flows o'er with rue 
To God I oft kneel, I kneel and sue. 
O priest, I wis that with holy shrift 
In the darkest of clouds there comes a rift ' 
'Such comfort as lies in the cloister's pale 
It is thine, O Count, for thy good and hale. 
Should that not vail, why then from home 
As a pilgrim must thou fare to Rome.' 

crepuscule, twilight. dule, sadness. 

erstwhile, a short time ago. godden, good even. 

case, condition. ingle-place, fire-place. 

wis, know. hale, well-being. 
vail, avail. 



The Baron of Egisheim 81 



Fytte V 

What see the eagles that tower aheight 
'Midst the snow-clad Alps in their airy flight? 
On their southern slope a long winding train 
Of pilgrims who zigzag towards the plain, 
And in their wake with a look forspent 
Crawls an old, old man on his staff y-bent 
And little by little he inches along, 
Till in Rome he stands with the pilgrim throng. 
And the Vatican's doors to him open at last. 
To the Pope's own chamber abashed he hath 

past. 
'O, father of all the Christentie, 
To thee I come to bend the knee. 
Beneath a load of sin I groan, 
Oh grant my prayer and hear my moan.' 
'God thee with strength, my son, endow! 
What is thy deed? Here make avow.' 
'Once I with a son by God was blest — 
He died, O father, 'twas at my hest! 
A witch's words filled my heart with dread — 
The woodland mould was his last bed.' 
The Pope mused awhile, then rising he stepped 
To a secret drawer where a scroll he kept. 
'Now lythe and list to this yellow scroll, 
For a page of the past it doth enroll. 
Through the greenwood all in the morning-tide 
A ranger once walked with a lad at his side. 

aheight, on high. forspent, wearied out. 

Christentie, Christendom. avow, avowal, confession. 
hest, injunction, command, lythe, pay attention. 



82 The Baron of Egisheim 

The birds they sang, the scene was fair 

But yet with the ranger there stalked care. 

Oh whither, good ranger, will this pathway lead? 

O'er hill and o'er dale and along through the mead 

When I am a man then wander I may 

Alone in the forest the live-long day; 

For the big, big trees and the streams I love 

And the soft, soft coo of the sweet ringdove. 

Aye, thy heart's in the woods, lad, that I well 

mind — 
'Twas a gift thou erst mad'st to the spotted hind. 
"Good ranger, I tire, mote I rest a while?'' 
"Nay, nay, lest the wood-witch us should beguile." 
"But the end of our walk, is it nigh? — is it far?" 
"We shall see it anon by the light of a star. 
Straight roads are short, but they turn not back, 
And the path to thy home hath a winding track. " 
"I am weary, good ranger, my legs they are sore, 
And they crook till I think I can step no more." 
"Bear up, gentle laddie, for we must be yare 
Or of Bruin the bear else we may be ware. 
See yonder, see yonder, there's a cot by a brook 
And 'tis there thou shalt sleep in its ingle-nook." 
And 'twas there that I slept in its ingle-nook. 
In every limb the count he shook. 

yare, quick, alert, ready. ware, aware. 

ingle-nook, fire-place. 



The Clock of Bale 83 



THE CLOCK OF BALE 

'/^AINST the ramparts of Bale two lovers 
VJ once leant, 

And, gazing down o'er a battlement, 
Saw a moon-litten host flung far and wide, 
That leagured the town on every side. 
'Say, Rolf, are yonder men's casques that gleam 
Or ancients that free in the night wind stream?' 
'My Bertha dear angel,' the lad he quoth, 
' 'Tis as likely each or it may be both.' — 
And the minutes unnoticed slipped prestly by, 
As this couple a-dream watched plain and sky. 
'Say, Rolf, out there towards the wind-swept 

wrack 
Didst thou not hear the wild ducks quack?' 
'I heard them not, blossom, my thoughts they 

went 
Along the lane of sweet content.' 
So one after one the minutes sped fast, 
And little they recked how many had past. 
'Say, Rolf, hear'st thou not in the air aheight 
The whirr of the wild goose winging its flight?' 
'I hear it not, but full well I see 
That thou ever the warder's daughter must be.' 
And ever nor slow nor yet in haste 
With his measured step Time onward paced. 

ancients, banners. prestly, quickly. 

content, contentment. aheight, high up, above. 



84 The Clock of Bale 

'List, Rolf, by yon buttress with bated breath 
One speaks, lend ear to what he saith.' 
'When the clock shall strike the midnight hour, 
They'll scale the wall and seize gate and tower. 
Twice fifteen we are, a trusty band, 
To bear to the scalers a helping hand. 
The watchers mote think all goeth athwart; 
For days the camp hath seemed half amort; 
The gyns of war have ceased to speak, 
And our preux they deem are ale-knights weak. 
The drowsy burghers thus soothed alate 
Are snoring abed and misdoubt not their fate. 
Anon they will wake and mark to their cost 
How in fancied safety one findeth frost. 
The time to strike e'en now draweth nigh.' 
'Rolf, the moon hath set, 'tis soon twelve — 

come fly.' 

* * * 

Who treads the stair with such breathless speed? 
'My daughter, thy errand come rede me, rede.' 
'There's treason afoot, and some thirty lurk 
About the wall 'neath the cover of mirk. 
They lurk there to seize the tower and gate, 
And the stroke of twelve is the signal they wait. 
From the traitor within and the enemy's glaive, 
O God of our fathers the town now save!' 
'To the syndic haste, Bertha, thy story tell, 
Let the tocsin sound from the warning bell, 
O Bale, in the hour of thy jeopardy, 

amort, lifeless. gyns, engines, mechanical 

preux, gallants, valiants. contrivances. 

ale-knights, tipsters. alate, of late. 

misdoubt, suspect. findeth frost, meets with 

rede, relate. disaster. 



The Clock of Bale 85 

I'll tread on the wild- worm of traiterye.' 
Then up he sprang to the clock aboon, 
And set its hands by an hour too soon, 
And as midnight came like a minute gun 
O, fateful and solemn the clock struck one. 
And anon on the air rang the note of alarm, 
And voiced the call to the burghers to arm. 
But the bell as it clanged in that tocsin's yell 
On the traitors' ears like a death knell fell. 

wild-worm, serpent. traiterye, treachery. 

aboon, above. 



Paiiatres of 3|ollanb 



THE BEARD OF THE KING OF SPAIN 

SAY, cripple, an thou must go 
With limping gait and slow, 
Thy lot it may be dost owe 
To the men of the king of Spain?' 

'List, Sirs, and to ye I'll tell 
What to my poor leg befell 
Through the work of that fiend of hell, 
That is hight the king of Spain. 

It was in ninety-one 
They deemed us all fordone; 
But the long fight was not won 
By the host of the king of Spain. 

To the despot we would not cringe, 
An a gate we must force or unhinge, 
We had sworn that we would singe 
The beard of the king of Spain. 

True beggars bold and free, 
All doughty-handed we, 
On a snare had come to 'gree 

For the bills of the king of Spain. 

hight, called. gree, agree. 

bills, billmen, pikemen. 

87 



The Beard of the King of Spain 

Nigh Zutphen lay a fort 
Where our peasants would resort 
To traffic at its port 

For the pelf of the king of Spain. 

'Twas there we set the hay, 
All in the month of May, 
That was to reave away 

That hold from the king of Spain. 
Five stalwarts deils to fight 
Were then as peasants dight, 
That we mote break the might 

Of the cursed king of Spain. 

And five were kirtled eke, 
And each one shaved his cheek 
For that he mote take wreak 

For the lust of the king of Spain. 
And I was a may to boot, 
Who well I trow could shoot, 
And wing the flying coot, 

Or a bill of the king of Spain. 

And maunds of eggs we bare 
With fish and fowl then rare, 
O, 'twas a goodly fare 

For the dons of the king of Spain. 

And for that we mote please 
With these commodities 
We took some rounds of cheese 
For the rats of the king of Spain. 

port, the great gate of a castle or town. 

hay, net or snare. take wreak, take vengeance. 

may, maid. maunds, baskets. 

mote, might. 






The Beard of the King of Spain 89 

'Twas nigh the great fort's gate 
We came betimes and sate, 
And there we placed the bait 

For the rats of the king of Spain. 

And as soon they did appear 
We watched the questing leer 
Of each whiskered musketeer 

Who fought for the king of Spain. 

Their leader he chattered Dutch, 
But when he my arm did clutch, 
Perdy! it was too much, 
Take that for the king of Spain! 

And as I saw him dead, 
To the nether world thus sped, 
A thought flashed through my head — 
Would that he were the king of Spain. 

Then a troop that perdu lay 
Joined prestly in the fray, 
Till we tore that flag away 

That waved for the king of Spain. 

But ere we could cry game 
A blow that hoxt me came, 
And left me alway lame — 

And a curse on the king of Spain! 

Tis an ill I may abear, 

For the trumpets loud did blare, 

And we had plucked a hair 

From the beard of the king of Spain.' 

prestly, promptly. cry game, cry victory. 

hoxt, houghed. 



90 The Death of Schenk 



THE DEATH OF SCHENK (1589) 

ON the banks of the Rhine there once 
flourished 
The chief of a freebooting band, 
Who from farmers and peasants took levies 
With a rough and oft merciless hand. 

He had served 'neath the banner of Orange, 
He had won the battles of Spain, 
Then breaking allegiance to Philip 
Had returned to his country again. 

Each day he was fighting or drinking, 
And, when he was flushed with wine, 
He would treat all his men in his fury 
As though they were only kine. 

'Twas oft told how he caused some to leap down 
From steeples high in the air; 
For ne'er did his hard heart soften 
At the sound of a cry or a prayer. 

When he led his troops forth to the foray 
He was sure to be seen in the van, 
But if his small force was retreating 
He was ever the very last man. 

So the fame of that desperate rover, 
And the force of his word or decree, 
Spread over the lands of fair Munster, 
And south o'er the Bishop's see. 



The Death of Schenk 91 

Till mothers would say to their children: 
'Hark! here's Schenk at the door, so beware!' 
And the youngsters would fly away screaming 
As though a black demon were there. 

Schenk's sconce was the name of a fortress 
Where the Waal in its boisterous race 
Leaves the Rhine to pursue its course northward, 
A river of sluggish pace. 

And forth from his stronghold he sallied 
All in haste on a summer day, 
To possess himself of a convoy 
That was quietly stealing away. 

O'er a thousand who stood to defend it 
Were ere long in so narrow a strait, 
That fleeing they left all behind them, 
The horses, the treasure, and plate. 

But down on the Waal at some distance 
Rose the towers of Nymegen town; 
And the thought of its riches protected 
Caused Schenk's brow to contract in a frown. 

Then he vowed he would soon be the master 
Of a city so fair and so free, 
And with curses he cried, ' 'Tis worth more than 
A glove full of pepper for me.' 1 

So he mustered his troopers together 
All clad in their armour bright, 
And filling some twenty-five barges, 
Down the river they dropped at night. 

1 The annual tribute paid to the Emperor. 



92 The Death of Schenk 

As the foremost drew nigh to the city 
Bold Schenk with a few sprang ashore, 
And, regardless of those who still tarried, 
Set forth on the road to explore. 

On they stole to St. Anthony's gateway, 
Both he and his followers true, 
Where they fell on the guard who were napping 
As watchers are wont to do. 

Unmolested then forward they hastened 
Through the gloomy and silent street, 
For the burghers, all covered and curtained, 
Heard never a sound of their feet. 

But they came in due time to a mansion 
Whose front looked forth on the square, 
For this was the place of assembly 
In that dark and risky affair. 

There they passed through the corridors swiftly 
Till they burst in the stately old hall, 
Where a flood of bright light fell upon them 
Reflected from mirror and wall. 

For within there were signs of a wedding, 
And dancers scattered around 
Moved hither and thither in cadence 
To the harp and the viol's soft sound. 

But, checked by the sudden intrusion, 
The mirth and the music had ceased; 
Whilst the couples stood gazing in wonder 
At the guests unbid to the feast. 



The Death of Schenk 93 

Lips trembled but uttered no greeting, 
Flushed cheeks turned rapidly pale, 
And the frolickers seemed to be spellbound 
At the sight of those figures in mail. 

The troopers had halted an instant, 
And they watched the proceedings amazed, 
One and all with their venturesome leader 
By the glare of the candles half-dazed. 

The revellers read the dark purpose 
Of the man who so seldom smiled, 
For many there knew his rough nature 
To tenderness never beguiled. 

With short cries of alarum ill-stifled 
Through the doors and the windows they fled, 
And their laughter was heard no longer — 
But the clank of steel armour instead. 

Then Schenk on the square had men posted, 
Whiles the mansion he fortified, 
As he issued his orders, flinging 
A curse on the parting bride. 

But the fugitives, spreading quickly, 
Had aroused the slumbering town, 
Whose inhabitants fresh from their couches 
To the conflict came hurrying down. 

With them was the force of numbers 
Which Schenk could ill withstand, 
For gathering they well-nigh encircled 
His tiny yet resolute band. 



94 The Death of Schenk 

Three times at the point of the falchion 
He drove them away from the place, 
But ever anew they pressed round him 
Till his troopers no longer had space. 

Yet he fought at the door of the mansion, 
Still dealing forth blow upon blow; 
Nor retreated within till the daylight 
In grey glimmers began to glow. 

Mad with rage, he then stamped as he called for 
The men on whose aid he relied, 
For a few who with him might have held back 
The rush of that terrible tide. 

From the house to the street he was driven 
'Midst a frantic and orderless throng, 
For his troopers close huddled together 
Now in panic all struggled along. 

'Twas in vain that he bade them to rally, 
Or the pate of one here and there cleft, 
For the others fled only the faster; 
And alone in his plight he was left. 

As at last he fell back to the river, 
Far away from the craft at the quay, 
Still struggling against the swift current 
The rest of his force he could see. 

He turned and the foe was upon him, 
But his teeth he still savagely gnashed, 
Then quick in the last of the barges, 
Though already o'erloaded, he dashed. 



The Death of Schenk 95 

But it filled, and, weighed down by his armour, 
He sank like a stone outright, 
And the Waal, then a torrent, rolled over 
The head of that brigand and knight. 



96 Stavoren 



STAVOREN 

Fytte I 

SAY, fisher, what song sing'st thou o' the 
sea?' 

I sing of a town that once used to be, 
Of a town so rich that its merchants' gains 
Would have filled with gold a long line of wains: 
Stavoren 'twas night and it held the key 
Of this inlet thou see'st, the Zuyderzee'. 
'And why in the depths of the glassy green 

brine 
With a roving gaze search thy fair blue eyne?' 
'O'er the roofs of the mansions my eye now 

roams 
Where those trader princes erst had their 

homes: 
The lady Richberta, the legend says, 
Lived in splendour that filled all her peers with 

amaze. 
In her marble hall she wonned in state. 
But, oh! if her heart had been as great! 
To her door one day a stranger came 
With a swarthy face and an eastern name, 
And he craved from her, as Mussulmans use, 
Some salt and bread as the new-comer's dues. 
In that house nigh the sea there was salt galore, 

amaze, wonder. wonned, dwelt. 



Stavoren 97 

But maugre rich dishes of bread no store; 

And they sought a-high and they sought a-low, 

And vain was the hurrying to and fro. 

But the paynim he sat there awhile and spun 

A tale of the land o' the rising sun. 

Of its wonders in many words he told, 

Till the daylight dusked and the day grew old. 

But for all he there saw scant phrases he found 

To mark his esteem or to voice his stound. 

Quoth Richberta 'Good stranger who gracest our 

feast, 
Thy mind still dwells in the pictured east.' 
'Fair dame of the Norland/ he answered, 'the 

blaze 
Of thy mansions' great riches makes poor all 

praise, 
And my eye is bewitched by the glamourie 
Of thy stuffs of the grain and the cramoisie. 
But this riot of beauty leaves one thing wished 
More precious than pearl that fisher e'er fished.' 
'Now limn me this thing, which if money can 

buy, 
Shall be brought by my ships that o'er ocean ply.' 
'To thy wisdom, dear lady, that search I must 

leave, 
They command success who most justly 

conceive.' 
Thus outspake the stranger, and stilly anon 
From the midst of the revellers he had gone. 
* * * 

maugre, in spite of. paynim, pagan. 

stound, astonishment. glamourie, magic. 
cramoisie, crimson. 



98 Stavoren 

Fytte II 

Commander of my caracks three 

To-morrow be yare to put to sea, 

To put to sea and to sail to the west, 

And lythe and listen to my behest, 

To sail round the coasts of the western isles, 

Where the sun on their waters months-long 

smiles. 
And seek for something in value beyond 
Rich stuffs or gold or diamond. 
Aye perquest for something of greater worth 
Than aught thou hast shipped from the ends of 

the earth. 
An thy search in those regions should be in vain, 
Then southward thou 'It steer o'er the trackless 

main, 
Till thou feePst on thy face hot Afric's breeze 
By the towering pillars of Hercules. 
Then through the Mid Sea thou shalt gather 

way, 
And plough the dark waves where the sea-geese 

play. 
The commander sailed forth with his ships 

three in line, 
He sailed on while the moon changed four times 

nine, 
And cruising he touched at every port 
Where baubles and trinkets he saw of each sort 
From the carven tusk of the elephant 

yare, ready. lythe, pay attention. 

perquest, search thoroughly. 
gather way, pursue one's course. 
sea-geese, dolphins. 



Stavoren 99 

To the vialed perfumes of the Levant, 

The lapis lazuli, the emerald gem, 

And the filigree woven anadem. 

But naught there was 'mongst the spoils of the 

east 
That his hope to have compassed his ends 

increased. 
And, as time wore on, week after week 
Lo! one of his caracks sprang a leak. 
The salt brine soaked the breadstuffs all, 
Till the crew for drink 'gan oft to call. 
Nor cask nor sack throughout the hold 
But soon was a mass of greenish mould. 
Day in, day out, on, on they sailed, 
And more than one in his stomach ailed. 
'What boot all these treasures to my crew 
When there's little to drink and naught to 

chew?' 
But good winds brought them to land at last 
O, fain they were to break their fast! 

Fytte IV 

'My watchman, what ships on the sea see'st 

thou?' 
'Three sails I mark on th' horizon's brow, 
Three vessels I scan on the weltering sea. 
Methinks they ride right heavilie.' 
On the morrow the watchman sent word to the 

dame 
To tell how her caracks to harbour came. 
Hotfoot the water's edge she sought 

anadem, chaplet, garland. 



ioo Stavoren 

To learn what cargo her vessels had brought. 
Then outspake the commander free and bold: 
'O, many a treaure have I in my hold, 
But one there is makes the others all vain: 
'Tis a full, full freight of the golden grain. 
And but for this godsend, this precious store, 
Stavoren, dear town, we had seen no more.' 
Quick the blood to Richberta's cheek it rushed, 
And a lock of hair from her forehead she 

brushed. 
'What folly is this? commander, rede. 
Have we herds of hogs that we must feed? 
As lief had I thou hadst brought back 
A lading of the green sea-wrack. 
On one side of my ships the grain came aboard 
Then out on the other straight let it be poured.' 
To the hungry sea the sacks were heaved, 
While a hungry crowd stood there sore grieved, 
And a forest of hands shot up in the air, 
And cries and wails broke forth of despair. 
But prideful and cold as a statue the dame 
Saw the last of the sacks pass beyond reclaim. 
Round the spot where all the good grain sank 
The mud oozed up and formed a bank. 
It grew in time, what with sludge and sleech, 
Till across the haven it 'gan to reach. 
The ships no more at the port could call, 
And poverty stood on the threshold of all. 
Then a murmur arose in Stavoren town 
One wintry day as the sun went down, 

rede, declare, relate. lading, cargo. 

sea-wrack, sea-weed. sludge, mud, ooze. 
sleech, slime, mud. 



Stavoren 101 

And the cry it swelled in the alleys and courts 
'Mongst the townsfolk of many and sundry sorts. 
'This blight on our traffic must reach its term, 
Ere our ship shall sink let us drive out the worm.' 
And many a man with litten torch 
Hied through the streets to Richberta's porch; 
Whiles she with a face like a spectre white 
Fled furtively forth, and was lost in the night. 
Who had listened then to the rote of the surge 
Had heard a moan like a plaining dirge, 
As though the waves with that sound had fore- 
cast 
The nearing of the tempests' blast. 
Who had then stood on the northmost land 
Had seen a dread sight on Stavoren's strand, 
Had seen the sea roll up in its might 
Till the bank and the mansions sank out of 
sight 

litten, lighted. 

rote, the noise of the surge on the shore. 



102 The White Doe 



THE WHITE DOE 

THE PETITION 

WHAT'S i' the wind so vagabond 
Gallant hound that thou scentest yond? 
Back to heel, backare or all too prest 
Gar thou wilt in one unrest. 
Maiden who kneelest at this wayside cross 
What in thy bosom doth travail and toss? 
Breathe me thy plaint, impart thy prayer, 
Prithee tell what woe, what care 
At creek of day 
Drew thee away 
So rathe from bed. 

Countess, alack my heart is sore 

For that my father is no more. 

Fevered he lay long, long days nine; 

Wearily I watched him dwine. 

Watching by night at his bedside 

Warning had I of what mote betide. 

Pale the moon rose one night and wan 

When thro' the treen there passed and was gone 

A white doe fast, 

And he sighed his last; 

His life had sped. 

Scant six days had I made my moan 
When I was chilled as 'twere to stone. 
Alan my brother, so it fell, 
Called i' the night for drink from the well. 

yond, yonder. rathe, early. 

backare, keep back. dwine, pine away. 

prest, prompt, ready. scant, scarcely, barely. 



The White Doe 103 

As at his cry astart I woke 

Sheen the moon shone on the dricksie oak. 

Back as from the well I sprung 

Like a streak the treen among 

The white doe past 

And I found aghast 

His soul had fled. 

Tristful my sister and I must fain 

Gravewards follow their corses twain. 

Sith gaingiving oftwhile have I 

That her eke I may see die, 

That I may see her dwindle and peak, 

She who is but a grissel weak. 

Prayers have I prayed God keep her from scath, 

Death he walketh in her path; 

An the white doe pass 

They'll say a mass 

For one more dead. 

Woe is me and to this countrie 
Where the white doe wandereth free 
Weaklings' souls they are her prey 
And she beareth them far away. 
Gentle dame, this is my boon, 
Thy fair son he may full soon 
Arm himself all for the chase 
And with hounds of swiftest pace 

May go on quest 

With arbalest 

Her blood to shed. 

dricksie, decayed. tristful, sad, downhearted. 

sith, since then. grissel, a tender or delicate person. 

gaingiving, misgiving, scath, harm, hurt. 



104 The White Doe 

THE YOUNG COUNT'S LOVE SONG 

Forth I strolled one April morn 
Down a lane's meanders, 
Thorough the woods by paths ne'er worn 
Save by the stag when he wanders. 
Grangrel Cupid me did guide 
Hoodman undiscerning, 
Mocking me when I must bide 
Halting at some turning. 

Slouchy winter had gone his gait, 

Left the field to Flora. 

Blooms in foison from her estate 

Fell from her lap by the score — a. 

Blooms they fell at a maiden's feet 

In the jolly spring-time; 

Twined they were by her fingers neat 

In the happy ring-time. 

There's a well within a grot 

Lies in the heart of the dingle. 

Ferns and violets in that spot 

Blow together and mingle. 

Thither it happed that morn I came, 

Found there a pensive lily, 

Blanche, it was that fair flower's name, 

Bent o'er the water stilly. 

Five sling casts' length from well and wood, 
All with its turrets sorted, 
Noble, a castle, her wonyng stood, 
Rearing its stone crest forted. 

grangrel, wandering, vagrant, wonyng, dwelling. 
gait, way. forted, fortified, strong. 

sorted, arranged harmoniously. 



The White Doe 105 

'Gentle maid here to while a space 
Culling the joys of the present, 
An the thought thou shouldst aggrace 
It were passing pleasant.' 

Cheerly, cheerly flitted the hours 
In that fairy nooklet. 
Pattering we braided flowers 
Pattering on like a brooklet. 
Visions came as in a glass, 
Never for thought were we gravelled; 
From each field forth we would pass 
Ranging the world as we travelled. 

Spring it is the budding tide. 
Hearts o'erflow with passion. 
Fortune fair each pair arride 
Love is all the fashion. 
May is passing and full soon 
Cuckoos will be singing. 
Time will hobble on to June 
Marriage bells be ringing. 



THE YOUNG COUNT'S HUNTING SONG 

It is a doe, a milk white doe, 
That passeth like a gleam. 
No mortal eye saw her I trow 
Save neath the lunar beam. 

Elves, elves, 

Where the rock shelves 

Bring her to harm. 



106 The White Doe 

She erreth here, she erreth there, 
And stealeth thro' the dell, 
And as she treadeth everywhere 
She casts a deathful spell. 

Fay, fay, 

Lead her astray 

Mazed with a charm. 
At cockshut hour neath oak or fir 
For her ofttimes I lay. 
For vain 'twas as the plain to skin- 
Before the break o' day. 

Bow, bow 

Now lay her low 

Stain her side red. 
With lym and brach by strath and scaur 
What mote ha' been her shade 
I followed fast till all seemed lore 
And the sun had gone to glade. 

Hound, hound, 

Bring her to ground 

Fang her fine head. 

And still the bruit of her black work 
Doth fly o'er many a sill; 
And those who venture in the mirk 
Must cross themselves 'gainst ill. 

Priest, priest, 

Curse the fell beast 

Her work undo. 

for vain, in vain. go to glade, set (of the sun). 

skirr, scour. lore, lost. 

lym, a lyam-hound, i.e., one held by a leash. 

brach, a kind of hunting-dog. fang, seize. 

mote, might. bruit, rumour. 



The White Doe 107 

Hard by St. Catherine's well alate 
Athwart the moonlit treen 
One saw her pass forerunning fate 
Tis there I'll be this e'en. 

Bite, bite, 

In her flank white 

Quarrell so true. 

THE OLD NURSE'S LAMENT 

Blossom of May- 
Faded away, 
Gelid as clay, 
Yestreen my pretty dilling. 
Foster child best 
That on my breast 
Erst wont to rest 
Hearts all with dule are filling. 

Thou who anight, 
Clad in weeds white, 
Like a poor sprite, 
By the moon went walking, 
Lovesome in grace, 
Where the lords chase 
There thou didst face 
Mortal-staring Death stalking. 

yestreen, yester-evening. 

dilling, darling. 

dule, sorrow. 

weeds, garments. 

to go by the moon, to be a somnambulist. 

mortal-staring, grim-visaged. 



108 The White Doe 

Thee in the holt 

As 'twere a poult, 

Felled one sole bolt 

Loosed by one fast by in cover. 

Speeding amain 

It struck hearts twain! 

See its gore-stain! 

Grief-shot was thy lover. 

Grave my Blanche there 
Where sands lie fair, 
Golden as hair, 
Golden for her pillow. 
And all ill banned 
There I will stand 
Lone in the land 
Like a weeping willow. 

THE SHEPHERD'S SONG (I) 

I pipe to the dawn 

On an upland lawn; 

And sing to my flock as it grazes. 

Whiles down in the dale 

Hangs the curtain pale 

That the sun in its splendour raises. 

Oh, there is a sprite, 

Like a fairy light, 

A sprite that erst was a maiden. 

And the old folks say, 

Of a sooth and perfay 

That her heart with love was o'erladen. 

poult, a young partridge or pheasant 



The White Doe 109 

By the moonlight sheen 

That sprite may be seen 

Aye pacing as one who is sleeping, 

Still thorough the glade, 

As erstwhile a maid 

To the well where a tryst she was keeping. 

Like a sylph it glides 

Where the roebuck hides. 

Its lane it oft while is narrow. 

And as one at fault 

There it maketh halt 

Where her heart was pierced by an arrow. 

Left Elf land's horn 

Wind notes that borne 

By Zephyr as she dances 

With calm may suage 

Through a long-drawn age 

That sprite as the world it trances. 



THE SHEPHERD'S SONG (II) 

Erst i' the dell, 
As I heard tell, 
Wild, weird, and gaunt 
Harbored a knight; 
And with affright 
One nighed his haunt. 

thorough, through. trances, travels through. 



no The White Doe 

Hunter high-wrought 
Like a fire-flaught 
Fast he would ride; 
And his loud cry 
As he swept by- 
Woke the hill-side. 

Forth burst his song 
Echoing long, 
Filling the air, 
Till with a moan 
Sudden his tone 
Broke in despair. 

THE LAY OF THE WILD HUNTSMAN 

Wind the horn, wind 
For stag or hind 
I have no mind, 
But for the doe. 

Steed, steed, 

After her speed, 

Lead the gay rout; 

That ere the light 

Dusks to dim night 

Her I may sight, 

Her harborowe. 
Erne, erne, 
Deep in the fern 
Speer, speer her out. 

■fire-Haught, flash of lightning. 

harborowe, track (a stag) to his harbour or covert. 

erne, the golden eagle. speer, search. 



The White Doe m 

There in the dale 

Fine shall her bale, 

There she shall quail. 

Hold, I ken Blanche. 
Woe, woe, 
There she lies low 
There she doth sleep. 

Blight on my arm 
That worked her harm. 
There in her barm 
Who'll the blood staunch? 

Bell, bell, 

Stag on the fell 

For her go weep. 

fine, end. barm, bosom. 



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